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1883. ^nnuttl^u Ascription, $50. 


PILGRIM 


Entered at the Post Office, N. Y., as second-class matter. 
m Copyright, 1883, by John W. Lovkll Co. 


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LOVELL’S LIBRARY. 

CATALOGUE . 


1. Hyperion, by H. W. Longfellow. . .20 

2. Outre-Mer, by H. W. Longfellow. ..20 

3. The Happy Boy, by Bjdrnson 10 

1 4. Arne, by Bjorneon 10 

6. Frankenstein; or. the Modern Pro- 
metheus, by Mrs. Shelley 10 

6. The Last of the Mohicans, by J. 

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Early Days of Christianity, by Can- 
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Adam Bede, by Geo. Eliot, Part II. .15 

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quel to the Duke of Kandos, by 
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by .. .' 20 

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Part I 15 

TheWooing 0*t, by Mrs. Alexander, 
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Romola, by George Eliot, Part II. .15 

80. Science in Short Chapters 20 

81. Zanoni, by Lord Lytton 20 

82. A Daughter of Heth, by W. Black. 20 

83. The Right and Wrong Uses of the 

Bible, by Rev. R. Heber Newton. 20 

84. Night and Morning, by Lord Lytton 


Part I 15 

Night and Morning, by Lord Lytton 
Part II 15 


A 


LITTLE PILGRIM. 










NEW YORK: 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 
14 & 16 Vesey Street. 

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W I 



A LITTLE PILGRIM, 


i 

IN THE UNSEEN. 

She had been talking of dying only the evening before, 
with a friend, and had described her own sensations after 
a long illness when she had been at the point of death. 
“I suppose,” she said, “ that I was as nearly gone as 
any one ever was to come back again. There was no 
pain in it, only a sense of sinking down, down — through 
the bed as if nothing could hold me or give me support 
enough — but no pain.” And then they had spoken of 
another friend in the same circumstances, who also had 
come back from the very verge, and who described her 
sensations as those of one floating upon a summer sea 
without pain or suffering, in a lovely nook of the Mediter- 
ranean, blue as the sky. These soft and soothing images 
of the passage which all men dread had been talked over 
with low voices, yet with smiles and a grateful sense that 
“ the warm precincts of the cheerful day” were once more 


6 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


familiar to both. And very cheerfully she went to rest 
that night, talking of what was to be done on the morrow, 
and fell asleep sweetly in her little room, with its shaded 
light and curtained window, and little pictures on the dim 
walls. All was quiet in the house : soft breathing of the 
sleepers, soft murmuring of the spring wind outside, a 
wintry moon very clear and full in the skies, a little town 
all hushed and quiet, everything lying defenceless, uncon- 
scious, in the safe keeping of God. 

How soon she woke no one can tell. She woke and 
lay quite still, half roused, half hushed, in that soft languor 
that attends a happy waking. She was happy always, in the 
peace of a heart that was humble and faithful and pure, but 
yet had been used to wake to a consciousness of little pains 
and troubles, such as even to her meekness were sometimes 
hard to bear. But on this morning there were none of 
these. She lay in a kind of hush of happiness and ease, 
not caring to make any further movement, lingering over 
the sweet sensation of that waking. She had no desire to 
move nor to break the spell of the silence and peace. It 
was still very early, she supposed, and probably it might 
be hours yet before any one came to call her. It might 
even be that she should sleep again. She had no wish to 
move, she lay at such luxurious ease and calm. But by 
and by, as she came to full possession of her waking senses, 
it appeared to her that there was some change in the at- 
mosphere, in the scene. There began to steal into the 
air about her the soft dawn as of a summer morning, the 
lovely blueness of the first opening of daylight before the 
sun. It could not be the light of the moon, which she had 


A LITTLE TIL G TIM. 


7 


seen before she went to bed ; and all was so still, that it 
could not be the bustling, wintry day which comes at that 
time of the year late, to find the world awake before it. 
'This was different ; it was like the summer dawn, a soft 
suffusion of light growing every moment. And by and 
by it occurred to her that she was not in the little room 
where she had lain down. There were no dim walls or 
roof, her little pictures were all gone, the curtains at her 
window. The discovery gave her no uneasiness in that 
delightful calm. She lay still to think of it all, to wonder, 
yet undisturbed. It half amused her that these things 
should be changed, but did not rouse her yet with any 
shock of alteration. The light grew fuller and fuller 
round, growing into day, clearing her eyes from the sweet 
mist of the first waking. Then she raised herself upon 
her arm. She was not in her room, she was in no scene 
she knew. Indeed it was scarcely a scene at all, nothing 
but light, so soft and lovely, that it soothed and caressed 
her eyes. She thought all at once of a summer morning 
when she was a child, when she had woke in the deep 
night which yet was day, early, so early that the birds were 
scarcely astir, and had risen up with a delicious sense of 
daring and of being all alone in the mystery of the sunrise, 
in the unawakened world which lay at her feet to be 
explored, as if she were Eve just entering upon Eden. It 
was curious how all those childish sensations, long for 
gotten, came back to her as ' she found herself so unex- 
pectedly out of her sleep in the open air and light. In the 
recollection of that lovely hour, with a smile at herself, so 
different as she now knew herself to be, she was moved 


8 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


to rise and look a little more closely about her, and see 
where she was. 

When I call her a little Pilgrim, I do not mean that she 
was a child ; on the contrary, she was not even young. 
She was little by nature, with as little f/esh and blood as 
was consistent with mortal life ; and she was one of those 
who are always little for love. The tongue found diminu- 
tives for her, the heart kept her in a perpetual youth. She 
was so modest and so gentle, that she always came last, 
so long as there was any one whom she could put before her. 
But this little body, and the soul which was not little, and 
the heart which was big and great, had known all the round 
of sorrows that fill a woman’s life, without knowing any of 
its warmer blessings. She had nursed the sick, she had 
entertained the weary, she had consoled the dying. She 
had gone about the world, which had no prize or recom- 
pense for her, with a smile. Her little presence had been 
always bright. She was not clever ; you might have said 
she had no mind at all ; but so wise and right and tender 
a heart, that it was as good as genius. This is to let you 
know what this little Pilgrim had been. 

She rose up, and it was strange how like she felt to the 
child she remembered in that still summer morning so many 
vears ago. Her little body, which had been worn and 
racked with pain, felt as light and unconscious of itself as 
then. She took her first step forward with the same sense 
of pleasure, yet of awe, suppressed delight and daring and 
wild adventure, yet perfect safety. But then the recollection 
of the little room in which she had fallen asleep came 
quickly, strangely over her, confusing her mind. “ I must 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


9 


be dreaming, I suppose,” she said to herself, regretfully ; 
for it was all so sweet that she wished it to be true. Her 
movement called her attention to herself, and she , found 
that she was dressed, not in her night-dress, as she had 
lain down, but in a dress she did not know. She paused 
for a moment to look at it, and wonder. She had never 
seen it before ; she did not make out how it was made, or 
what stuff it was, but it fell so pleasantly about her, it was 
so soft and light, that in her confused state she abandoned 
that subject with only an additional sense of pleasure. And 
now the atmosphere became more distinct to her. She saw 
that under her feet was a greenness as of close velvet turf, 
both cool and warm, cool and soft to touch, but with no 
damp in it, as might have been at that early hour, and 
with flowers showing here and there. She stood looking 
round her, not able to identify the landscape because she 
was still confused a little, and then walked softly on, all the 
time afraid lest she should awake and lose the sweetness of 
it all, and the sense of rest and happiness. She felt so light, 
so airy, as if she could skim across the field like any child. 
It was bliss enough to breathe and move, with every organ so 
free. After more than fifty years of hard service in the world, 
to feel like this, even in a dream ! She smiled to herself 
at her own pleasure ; and then once more, yet more po- 
tently, there came back upon her the appearance of her 
room in which she had fallen asleep. How had she got 
from there to here ? Had she been carried away in her 
sleep, or was it only a dream, and would she by and by find 
herself between the four dim walls again ? Then this shad- 
ow of recollection faded away once more, and she moved 


IO A LITTLE PILGRIM. 

forward, walking in a soft rapture over the delicious turf 
Presently she came to a little mound, upon which she 
paused to look about her. Every moment she saw a little 
farther : blue hills far away, extending in long, sweet dis- 
tance, an indefinite landscape, but fair and vast so that 
there could be seen no end to it, not even the line of the 
horizon, — save at one side, where there seemed to be a 
great shadowy gateway, and something dim beyond. She 
turned from the brightness to look at this and when she 
had looked for some time, she saw, what pleased her still 
more, though she had been so happy before, people com- 
ing in. They were too far off for her to see clearly, but 
many came, each apart, one figure only at a time. To 
watch them amused her in the delightful leisure of her 
mind. Who were they ? she wondered ; but no doubt 
soon some of them would come this way, and she would 
see. Then suddenly she seemed to hear, as if in answer to 
her question, some one say, “ Those who are coming in are 
the people who have died on earth.” “ Died ! ” she said 
to herself aloud, with a wondering sense of the inappro- 
priateness of the word which almost came the length of 
laughter. In this sweet air, with such a sense of life about, 
to suggest such an idea was almost ludicrous. She was so 
occupied with this, that she did not look round to see who 
the speaker might be. She thought it over, amused, but 
with some new confusion of the mind. Then she said, 
“ Perhaps I have died too/’ with a laugh to herself at the 
absurdity of the thought. 

“ Yes,” said the other voice, ec loing that gentle laugh 
of hers, “ you have died too.” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


1 1 

She turned round, and saw another standing by her, a 
woman, younger and fairer, and more stately than herself, 
but of so sweet a countenance that our little Pilgrim felt 
no shyness, but recognized a friend at once. She was 
more occupied looking at this new face, and feeling herself 
at once so much happier (though she had been so happy 
before) in finding a companion who would tell her what 
everything was, than in considering what these words might 
mean. But just then once more the recollection of the 
four walls, with their little pictures hanging, and the win- 
dow with its curtains drawn, seemed to come round her for 
a moment, so that her whole soul was in a confusion. And 
as this vision slowly faded away (though she could not tell 
which was the vision, the darkened room or this lovely 
light), her attention came back to the words at which she 
had laughed, and at which the other had laughed as she 
repeated them. Died ? — was it possible that this could be 
the meaning of it all ? 

“ Died ? ” she said, looking with wonder in her com- 
panion’s face, which smiled back to her. “ But do you 
mean — You cannot mean — I have never been so well : 
I am so strong : I have no trouble — anywhere : I am full 
of life.” 

The other nodded her beautiful head with a more beau- 
tiful smile, and the little Pilgrim burst out in a great cry 
of joy, and said, — 

“ Is this all ? Is it over ? — is it all over ? Is it pos- 
sible that this can be all ? ” 

“ Were you afraid of it ? ” the other said. 

There was a little agitation for the moment in her 


12 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


heart. She was so glad, so relieved and thankful, that it 
took away her breath. She could not get over the wonder 
of it. 

“ To think one should look forward to it so long, and 
wonder, and be even unhappy trying to divine what it will 
be — and this all ! ” 

“ Ah, but the angel was very gentle with you,” said 
the young woman ; “ you were so tender and worn, that 
he only smiled and took you sleeping. There are other 
ways. But it is always wonderful to think it is over, as 
you say.” 

The little Pilgrim could do nothing but talk of it, as 
one does after a very great event. “ Are you sure, quite 
sure, it is so ? ”she said. “ It would be dreadful to find it 
only a dream, to go to sleep again, and wake up — there — ” 
This thought troubled her for a moment. The vision of 
the bedchamber came back ; but this time she felt it was 
only a vision. “ Were you afraid too ? ” she said, in a low 
voice. 

“ I never thought of it at all,” the beautiful stranger 
said ; “ I did not think it would come to me. But I was 
very sorry for the others to whom it came, and grudged 
that they should lose the beautiful earth, and life, and all 
that was so sweet.” 

“ My dear ! ” cried the Pilgrim, as if she had never 
died, “ oh, but this is far sweeter ! And the heart is so light, 
and it is happiness only to breathe. Is it heaven here ? 
It must be heaven.” 

“ I do not know if it is heaven. We have so many 
things to learn. They cannot tell you everything at once,” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


13 


said the beautiful lady. “ I have seen some of the people 
I was sorry for, and when I told them, we laughed — as you 
and I laughed just now — for pleasure.” 

“ That makes me think,” said the little Pilgrim ; “ If I 
have died as you say — which is so strange, and me so liv- 
ing — if I have died, they will have found it out. The 
house will be all dark, and they will be breaking their 
hearts. Oh, how could I forget them in my selfishness, 
and be happy ! I so light-hearted, while they — ” 

She sat down hastily, and covered her face with her 
hands and wept. The other looked at her for a moment, 
then kissed her for comfort, and cried too. The two happy 
creatures sat there weeping together, thinking of those 
they had left behind, with an exquisite grief which was not 
unhappiness, which was sweet with love and pity. “ And 
oh,” said the little Pilgrim, “ what can we do to tell them 
not to grieve ? Cannot you send ? cannot you speak ? can- 
not one go to tell them ? ” 

The heavenly stranger shook her head. 

“ It is not well, they all say. Sometimes one has been 
permitted ; but they do not know you,” she said, with a 
pitiful look in her sweet eyes. “ My mother told me that 
her heart was so sick for me, she was allowed to go ; and 
she went and stood by me, and spoke to me, and I did not 
know her. She came back so sad and sorry, that they 
took her at once to our Father ; and there, you know, she 
found that it was all well. All is well when you are there.” 

“ Ah,” said the little Pilgrim, “ I have been thinking 
of other things. Of how happy I was, and of them ; but 
never of the Father, — just as if I had not died.” 


*4 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


The other smiled upon her with a wonderful smile. 

“ Do you think he will be offended — our Father — as if 
he were one of us ? ” she said. 

And the little Pilgrim, in her sudden grief to have for* 
gotten him, became conscious of a new rapture unexplain- 
able in words. She felt his understanding to envelope her 
little spirit with a soft and clear penetration, and that 
nothing she did or said could ever be misconceived more. 
“ Will you take me to him ?” she said, trembling yet glad, 
clasping her hands. And once again the other shook her 
head. 

“They will take us both when it is time,” she said, “we 
do not go at our own will. But I have seen our Brother — ” 
“ Oh, take me to him ! ” the little Pilgrim cried. “ Let 
me see his face ! I have so many things to say to him. I 
want to ask him — Oh, take me to where I can see his face ! ” 
And then once again the heavenly lady smiled. 

“ I have seen him,” she said. “ He is always about — 
now here, now there. He will come and see you, perhaps 
when you are not thinking. But when he pleases. We do 
not think here of what we will — ” 

The little Pilgrim sat very still, wondering at all this. 
She had thought when a soul left the earth that it went at 
once to God, and thought of nothing more, except worship 
and singing of praises. But this was different from her 
thoughts. She sat and pondered and wondered. She was 
baffled at many points. She was not changed as she ex- 
pected, but so much like herself ; still — still perplexed, 
and feeling herself foolish ; not understanding : toiling 
after a something which she could not grasp. The only 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


*5 

difference was that it was no trouble to her now. She 
smiled at herself and at her dulness, feeling sure that by 
and by she would understand. 

“ And don’t you wonder too ? ” she said to her com- 
panion, which was a speech such as she used to make upon 
the earth, when people thought her little remarks disjointed 
and did not always see the connection of them. But her 
friend of heaven knew what she meant. 

“ I do nothing but wonder,” she said, “ for it is all so 
natural, not what we thought.” 

“ Is it long since you have been here ? ” the Pilgrim 
said. 

“ I came before you ; but how long or how short I can- 
not tell, for that is not how we count. We count only by 
what happens to us. And nothing yet has happened to me 
except that I have seen our Brother. My mother sees him 
always. That means she has lived here a long time, and 
well—” 

“ Is it possible to live ill — in heaven ? ” The little Pil- 
grim’s eyes grew large, as if they were going to have tears 
in them, and a little shadow seemed to come over her. 
But the other laughed softly, and restored all her confi- 
dence. 

“ I have told you I do not know if it is heaven or not. 
No one does ill, but some do little, and some do much, just 
as it used to be. Do you remember in Dante there was a 
lazy spirit that stayed about the gates and never got farther ? 
But perhaps you never read that.” 

“ I was not clever,” said the little Pilgrim, wistfully ; 
“ no I never read it. I wish I had known more.” 


i6 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


Upon which the beautiful lady kissed her again to give 
her courage, and said, — 

“ It does not matter at all. It will all come to you, 
whether you have known it or not.” 

“ Then your mother came here long ago ? ” said the 
Pilgrim. “ Ah, then I shall see my mother too.” 

“ Oh, very soon, as soon as she can come ; but there 
are so many things to do. Sometimes we can go and meet 
those who are coming ; but it is not always so. I remem- 
ber that she had a message. She could not leave her 
business, you may be sure, or she would have been 
here.” 

“ Then you know my mother ? Oh and my dearest 
father too ? ” 

“ We all know each other,” the lady said with a smile. 

And you, did you come to meet me — only out of kind- 
ness, though I do not know you ? ” the little Pilgrim said. 

“ I am nothing but an idler,” said the beautiful lady, 
“ making acquaintance. I am of little use as yet. I was 
very hard worked before I came here, and they think it 
well that we should sit in the sun and take a rest, and 
find things out.” 

Then the little Pilgrim sat still and mused, and felt in 
her heart that she had found many things out. What she 
had heard had been wonderful, and it was more wonderful 
% still to be sitting here all alone, save for this lady, yet so 
happy and at ease. She wanted to sing, she was so happy; 
but remembered that she was old, and had lost her voice ; 
and then remembered again that she was no longer old, 
and perhaps had found it again. And then it occurred to 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


*7 


her to remember how she had learned to sing, and how 
beautiful her sister’s voice was, and how heavenly to hear 
her, — which made her remember that this dear sister would 
be weeping, not singing, down where she had come from ; 
and immediately the tears stood in her eyes. 

“ Oh,” she said, “ I never thought we should cry when 
we came here. I thought there were no tears in heaven.” 

“ Did you think, then, that we were all turned into 
stone ? ” cried the beautiful lady. “ It says God shall wipe 
away all tears from our faces, which is not like saying 
there are to be no tears.” 

Upon which the little Pilgrim, glad that it was per- 
mitted to be sorry, though she was so happy, allowed her- 
self to think upon the place she had so lately left. And she 
seemed to see her little room again, with all the pictures 
hanging as she had left them, and the house darkened, and 
the dear faces she knew all sad and troubled, and to hear 
them saying over to each other all the little careless words 
she had said as if they were out of the Scriptures, and cry- 
ing if any one but mentioned her name, and putting on 
crape and black dresses, and lamenting as if that which 
had happened was something very terrible. She cried at 
this, and yet felt half inclined to laugh, but would not, be- 
cause it would be disrespectful to those she loved. One 
thing did not occur to her, and that was, that they would 
be carrying her body, which she had left behind her away 
to the grave. She did not think of this, because she was 
not aware of the loss, and felt far too much herself to think 
that there was another part of her being buried in the 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 

ground. From this she was aroused by her companion 
asking her a question. 

“ Have you left many there ? ” she said. 

“ No one,” said the little Pilgrim, “ to whom I was the 
first on earth ; but they loved me all the same ; and if I 
could only, only let them know — ” 

“ But I left one to whom I was the first on earth,” said 
the other, with tears in her beautiful eyes ; “ and oh, how 
glad I should be to be less happy if he might be less sad ! ” 
“ And you cannot go ? you cannot go to him and tell 
him ? Oh, I wish,” cried the little Pilgrim ; but then she 
paused, for the wish died all away in her heart into a tender 
love for this poor, sorrowful man whom she did not know. 
This gave her the sweetest pang she had ever felt, for she 
knew that all was well, and yet was so sorry, and would 
have willingly given up her happiness for his. All this the 
lady read in her eyes or her heart, and loved her for it ; 
and they took hands and were silent together, thinking of 
those they had left, as we upon earth think of those who 
have gone from us, but only with far more understanding 
and far greater love. “ And have you never been able to 
do anything for him ? ” our Pilgrim said. 

Then the beautiful lady’s face flushed all over with the 
most heavenly warmth and light. Her smile ran over like 
the bursting out of the sun. “ Oh, I will tell you,” she 
said. “ There was a moment when he was very sad and 
perplexed, not knowing what to think ; there was some- 
thing he could not understand. Nor could I understand, 
nor did I know what it was, until it was said to me, 4 You 
may go and tell him. 5 And I went in the early morning 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


1 9 

before he was awake, and kissed him, and said it in his 
ear. He woke up in a moment, and understood, and every- 
thing was clear to him. Afterwards I heard him say, ‘ It 
is true that the night brings counsel. I had been troubled 
and distressed all day long, but in the morning it was quite 
clear to me.’ And the other answered, ‘ Your brain was 
refreshed, and that made your judgment clear/ But they 
never knew it was I ! That was a great delight. The dear 
souls, they are so foolish,” she cried, with the sweetest 
laughter, that ran into tears. “ One cries because one 
is so happy ; it is just a silly old habit/’ she said. 

“ And you were not grieved — it did not hurt you — that 
he did not know — ” 

“ Oh, not then, not then ! I did not go to him for that. 
When you have been here a little longer, you will see the 
difference. When you go for yourself, out of impatience, 
because it still seems to you that you must know best, and 
they don’t know you, then it strikes to your heart ; but 
when you go to help them — ah,” she cried, “ when he 
comes, how much I shall have to tell him ! ‘You thought 
it was sleep, when it was I ; when you woke so fresh and 
clear, it was I that kissed you ; you thought it your duty 
to me to be sad afterward, and were angry with yourself 
because you had wronged me of the first thoughts of your 
waking — when it was all me, all through ! ” 

“ I begin to understand,” said the little Pilgrim. “ But 
why should they not see us, and why should we not tell 
them ? It would seem so natural. If they saw us, it would 
make them so happy and so sure.” 

Upon this the lady shook her head. 


20 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


u The worst of it is not that they are not sure, it is the 
parting. If this makes us sorry here, how can they escape 
the sorrow of it, even if they saw us ? — for we must be 
parted. We cannot go back to live with them, or why 
should we have died ? And then we must all live our lives, 
they in their way, we in ours. We must not weigh them 
down, but only help them when it is seen that there is 
need for it. All this we shall know better by and by.” 

“ You make it so clear, and your face is so bright,” said 
our little Pilgrim, gratefully, “ you must have known a 
great deal, and understood even when you were in the 
world.” 

“ I was as foolish as I could be.” said the other, with 
her laugh that was as sweet as music : “ yet thought I 
knew, and they thought I knew. But all that does not 
matter now.” 

“ I think it matters, for look how much you have 
showed me. But tell me one thing more : how was it said 
to you that you must go and tell him ? Was it some one 
who spoke ? Was it—” 

Her face grew so bright that all the past brightness was 
as a dull sky to this. It gave out such a light of happiness, 
that the little Pilgrim was dazzled. 

“I was wandering about,” she said, “to see this new 
place. My mother had come back between two errands 
she had, and had come to see me and tell me everything , 
and I was straying about, wondering what I was to do, 
when suddenly I saw some one coming along, as it might 
be now — ” 

She paused and looked up, and the little Pilgrim looked 


A LITTLE PILGRIM, 


21 


up too, with her heart beating, but there was no one. 
Then she gave a little sigh, and turned and listened 
again. 

“ I had not been looking for him, or thinking. You 
know my mind is too light ; I am pleased with whatever 
is before me. And I was so curious, for my mother had 
told me many things ; when suddenly I caught sight of 
him passing by. He was going on, and when I saw this a 
panic seized me, lest he should pass and say nothing. I 
do not know what I did. I dung myself upon his robe, 
and got hold of it, — or at least I think so. I was in such 
an agony lest he should pass and never notice me. But 
that was my folly. He pass ! As if that could be ! ” 

“ And what did he say to you ? ” cried the little Pilgrim, 
iier heart almost aching, it beat so high with sympathy 
and expectation. 

The lady looked at her for a little without saying any- 
thing. 

“I cannot tell you,” she said, “ any more than I can 
tell if this is heaven. It is a mystery. When you see 
him you will know. It will be all you have ever hoped 
for and more besides, for he understands everything. He 
knows what is in our hearts about those we have left, and 
why he sent for us before them. There is no need to tell 
him anything ; he knows. He will come when it is time ; 
and after you have seen him you will know what to 
do.” 

Then the beautiful lady turned her eyes toward the 
gate, and while the little Pilgrim was still gazing, disap- 
peared from her, and went to comfort some other stranger. 


22 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


They were dear friends always, and met often, but not 
again in the same way. 

When she was thus left alone again, the little Pilgrim 
sat still upon the grassy mound, quite tranquil and happy, 
without wishing to move. There was such a sense of well- 
being in her, that she liked to sit there and look about 
her, and breathe the delightful air, like the air of a summer 
morning, without wishing for anything. 

“ How idle I am!” she said to herself, in the very 
words she had often used before she died ; but then she 
was idle from weakness, and now from happiness. She 
wanted for nothing. To be alive was so sweet. There 
was a great deal to think about in what she had heard, 
but she did not even think about that, only resigned her- 
self to the delight of sitting there in the sweet air and 
being happy. Many people were coming and going, and 
they all knew her, and smiled upon her, and those who 
were at a distance would wave their hands. This did not 
surprise her at all, for though she was a stranger, she too 
felt that she knew them all ; but that they should be so 
kind was a delight to her which words could not tell. She 
sat and mused very sweetly about all that had been told 
her, and wondered whether she too might go sometimes, 
and with a kiss and a whisper clear up something that was 
dark in the mind of some one who loved her. “ I that 
never was clever ! ” she said to herself, with a smile. And 
chiefly she thought of a friend whom she loved, who was 
often in great perplexity, and did not know how to guide 
herself amid i he difficulties of the world. 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


23 


The little Pilgrim half laughed with delight, and then 
half cried with longing to go, as the beautiful lady had 
done, and make something clear that had been dark be- 
fore, to this friend. As she was thinking what a pleasure 
it would be, some one came up to her, crossing over the 
flowery greenness, leaving the path on purpose. This was 
a being younger than the lady who had spoken to her be- 
fore, with flowing hair all crisped with touches of sunshine, 
and a dress all white and soft, like the feathers of a white 
dove. There was something in her face different from 
that of the other, by which the little Pilgrim knew 
somehow, without knowing how, that she had come here as 
a child, and grown up in this celestial place. She was tall 
and fair, and came along with so musical a motion, as if 
her foot scarcely touched the ground, that she might have 
had wings : and the little Pilgrim indeed was not sure as 
she watched, whether it might not perhaps be an angel ; 
for she knew that there were angels among the blessed 
people who were coming and going about, but had not been 
able yet to find one out. She knew that this new-comer 
was coming to her, and turned towards her with a smile 
and a throb at her heart of expectation. But when the 
heavenly maiden drew nearer, her face, though it was so 
fair, looked to the Pilgrim like another face, which she had 
known very well, — indeed, like the homely and troubled 
face of the friend of whom she had been thinking. And 
so she smiled all the more, and held out her hands and 
said, “ I am sure I know you ; ” upon which the other kissed 
her and said, “ We all know each other ; but I have seen 
you often before you came here,” and knelt down by her, 


24 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


among the flowers that were growing, just in front of some 
tall lilies that grew over her, and made a lovely canopy 
over her head. There was something in her face that was 
like a child : her mouth so soft, as if it had never spoken 
anything but heavenly words, her eyes brown and golden, 
as if they were filled with light. She took the little Pil- 
grim’s hand in hers, and held them and smoothed them 
between her own. These hands had been very thin and 
worn before, but now, when the Pilgrim looked at them, 
she saw that they became softer and whiter every moment 
with the touch of this immortal youth. 

“ I knew you were coming,” said the maiden ; “ when 
my mother has wanted me I have seen you there. iVnd 
you were thinking of her now : that was how I found you.” 

“ Do you know, then, what one thinks ? ” said the little 
Pilgrim, with wondering eyes. 

“ It is in the air ; and when it concerns us it comes to 
us like the breeze. But we who are the children here, we 
feel it more quickly than you.” 

“ Are you a child ? ” said the little Pilgrim, “ or are you 
an angel ? Sometimes you are like a child ; but then your 
face shines, and you are like — You must have some 
name for it here ; there is nothing among the words I 
know.” And then she paused a little, still looking at her, 
and cried, “ Oh, if she could but see you little Margaret ! 
That would do her most good of all.” 

Then the maiden Margaret shook her lovely head. 

What does her most good is the will of the Father,” she 
said. 

At this the little Pilgrim felt once more that thrill of 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


2 5 


expectation and awe. “ 0 child, you have seen him ? ” 
she cried. 

And the other smiled. “ Have you forgotten who they 
are that always behold his face ? We had never had any 
fear or trembling. We are not angels, and there is no 
other name ; we are the children. There is something 
given to us beyond the others. We have had no other 
home.” 

“ Oh, tell me, tell me ! ” the little Pilgrim cried. 

Upon this Margaret kissed her, putting her soft cheek 
against hers, and said, “ It is a mystery ; it cannot be put 
into words ; in your time you will know.” 

“ When you touch me you change me, and I grow like 
you,” the Pilgrim said. “ Ah, if she could see us together, 
you and me ! And will you go to her soon again ? And 
do you see them always, what they are doing ? and take 
care of them ? ” 

“ It is our Father who takes care of them, and our 
Lord who is our Brother. I do his errands when I am 
able. Sometimes he will let me go, sometimes another, 
according as it is best. Who amT that I should take care 
of them ? I serve them when I may.” 

“ But you do not forget them ? ” the Pilgrim said, with 
wistful eyes. 

% 

“ We love them always,” said Margaret. She was more 
still than the lady who had first spoken with the Pilgrim. 
Her countenance was full of a heavenly calm. It had 
never known passion nor anguish. Sometimes there was 
in it a far-seeing look of vision, sometimes the simplicity 
of a child. “But what are we in comparison? For he 


26 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


loves them more than we do. When he keeps us from 
them, it is for love. We must each live our own life.” 

“ But it is hard for them sometimes,” said the little 
Pilgrim, who could not withdraw her thoughts from those 
she had left. 

“ They are never forsaken,” said the angel maiden. 

“ But oh \ there are worse things than sorrow,” the little 
Pilgrim said ; “ there is wrong, there is evil, Margaret. 
Will not he send you to step in before them, to save them 
from wrong ” 

“ It is not for us to judge,” said the young Margaret, 
with eyes full of heavenly wisdom ; “ our Brother has it all 
in his hand. We do not read their hearts, like him. 
Sometimes you are permitted to see the battle — ” 

The little Pilgrim covered her eyes with her hands. “ I 
could not — I could not ; unless I knew they were to win 
the day ! ” 

“ They will win the day in the end. But sometimes, 
when it was being lost, I have seen in his face a something 
— I cannot tell — more love than before. Something that 
seemed to say, “ My child, my child, would that I could 
do it for thee, my child ! ” 

“ Oh ! that is what I have always felt,” cried the Pil- 
grim, clasping her hands ; her eyes were dim, her heart 
for a moment almost forgot its blessedness. “But he 
could ; oh, little Margaret, he could ! You have forgotten, 
4 Lord, if thou wilt thou canst — ’ ” 

The child of heaven looked at her mutely, with sweet, 
grave eyes, in which there was much that confused her 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


27 

who was a stranger here and once more softly shook hei 

head. 

“ Is it that he will not then ? ” said the other with a 
low voice of awe. “ Our Lord, who died — he — ” 

“ Listen ! ” said the other ; “ I hear his step on the 
way.” 

The little Pilgrim rose up from the mound on which 
she was sitting. Her soul was confused with wonder and 
fear. She had thought that an angel might step between 
a soul on earth and sin, and that if one but prayed and 
prayed, the dear Lord would stand between and deliver 
the tempted. She had meant when she saw his face to 
ask him to save. Was not he born, did not he live and 
die, to save ? The angel maiden looked at her all the 
while with eyes that understood all her perplexity and her 
doubt, but spoke not. Thus it was that before the Lord 
came to her, the sweetness of her first blessedness was 
obscured, and she found that here too, even here, though 
in a moment she should see him, there was need for faith. 
Young Margaret, who had been kneeling by her, rose up 
too and stood among the lilies, waiting, her soft counte- 
nance shining, her eyes turned towards him who was coming. 
Upon her there was no cloud nor doubt. She was one of 
the children of that land familiar with his presence. And 
in the air there was a sound such as those who hear it alone 
can describe, — a sound as of help coming and safety, like 
the sound of a deliverer when one is in deadly danger, like 
the sound of a conqueror, like the step of the dearest be- 
loved coming home. As it came nearer, the fear melted 
away out of the beating heart of the Pilgrim. Who could 


28 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


fear so near him ? Her breath went away from her, her 
heart out of her bosom to meet his coming. Oh, never 
fear could live where he was ! Her soul was all confused, 
but it was with hope and joy. She held out her hands in 
that amaze, and dropped upon her knees, not knowing 
what she did. 

He was going about his Father’s business, not linger- 
ing, yet neither making haste ; and the calm and peace 
which the little Pilgrim had seen in the faces of the blessed 
were but reflections from the majestic gentleness of the 
countenance to which, all quivering with happiness and 
wonder, she lifted up her eyes. Many things there had 
been in her mind to say to him. She wanted to ask for 
those she loved some things which perhaps he had over- 
looked. She wanted to say, “ Send me.” It seemed to 
her that here was the occasion she had longed for all her 
life. Oh, how many times had she wished to be able to go 
to him ; to fall at his feet, to show him something which 
had been left undone, something which perhaps for her 
asking he would remember to do. But when this dream 
of her life was fulfilled, and the little Pilgrim, kneeling, 
and all shaken and trembling with devotion and joy, was 
at his feet, lifting her face to him, seeing him, hearing him 
then she said nothing to him at all. She no longer wanted 
to say anything, or wanted anything except what he chose, 
or had power to think of anything except that all was well, 
and everything — everything as it should be in his hand. It 
seemed to her that all that she had ever hoped for was 
fulfilled when she met the look in his eyes. At first it 
seemed too bright for her to meet ; but next moment she 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


29 


knew it was all that was needed to light up the world, and 
in it everything was clear. Her trembling ceased, her 
little frame grew inspired ; though she still knelt, her head 
rose erect, drawn to him like the flower to the sun. She 
could not tell how long it was, nor what was said, nor if it 
was in words. All that she knew was that she told him 
all that ever she had thought, or wished, or intended in all 
her life, although she said nothing at all ; and that he 
opened all things to her, and showed her that everything 
was well, and no one forgotten ; and that the things she 
would have told him of were more near his heart than hers, 
and those to whom she wanted to be sent were in his own 
hand. But whether this passed with words or without 
words, she could not tell. Her soul expanded under his 
eyes like a flower. It opened out, it comprehended and 
felt and knew. She smote her hands together in her 
wonder that she could have missed seeing what was so 
clear, and laughed with a sweet scorn at her folly, as two 
people who love each other laugh at the little misunder- 
standing that has parted them. She was bold with him, 
though she was so timid by nature, and ventured to laugh 
at herself, not to reproach herself ; for his divine eyes 
spoke no blame, but smiled upon her folly too. And then 
he laid a hand upon her head, which seemed to fill her 
with currents of strength and joy running through all her 
veins. And then she seemed to come to herself, saying 
loud out, And that I will ! and that I will ! ” and lo, she 
was kneeling on the warm soft sod alone, and hearing the 
sound of his footsteps as he went about his Father’s busi- 
ness, filling all the air with echoes of blessing. And all 


A LITTLE PILGRIM, 


the people who were coming and going smiled upon her, 
and she knew they were all glad for her that she had seen 
him, and got the desire of her heart. Some of them 
waved their hands as they passed, and some paused a 
moment and spoke to her with tender congratulations. 
They seemed to have the tears in their eyes for joy, re- 
membering every one the first time they had themselves 
seen him and the joy of it ; so that all about there sounded 
a concord of happy thoughts all echoing to each other, 
“ She has seen the Lord ! ,J 

Why did she say, “ And that I will ! and that I will ! ” 
with such fervor and delight ? She could not have told, 
but yet she knew. The first thing was that she had yet to 
wait and believe until all things should be accomplished, 
neither doubting nor fearing, but knowing that all should 
be well ; and the second was that she must delay no lon- 
ger, but rise up and serve the Father according to what 
was given her as her reward. When she had recovered a 
little of her rapture, she rose from her knees, and stood 
still for a little, to be sure which way she was to go. And 
she was not aware what guided her, but yet turned her 
face in the appointed way without any doubt. For doubt 
was now gone away forever, and that fear that once gave her 
so much trouble lest she might not be doing what was best. 
As she moved along she wondered at herself more. She 
felt no longer, as at first, like the child she remembered to 
have been venturing out in the awful lovely stillness of the 
morning before any one was awake ; but she felt that to 
move along was a delight, and that her foot scarcely 
touched the grass. And her whole being was instinct with 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


31 


such lightness of strength and life, that it did not matter 
to her how far she went, nor what she carried, nor if the 
way was easy or hard. The way she chose was one of 
those which led to the great gate, and many met her com- 
ing from thence, with looks that were somewhat bewildered, 
as if they did not yet know whither they were going or 
what had happened to them, — upon whom she smiled as 
she passed them with soft looks of tenderness and sympathy, 
knowing what they were feeling, but did not stop to ex- 
plain to them, because she had something else that had 
been given her to do. For this is what always follows in 
that country when you meet the Lord, that you instantly 
know what it is that he would have you do. 

The little Pilgrim thus went on and on toward the gate, 
which she had not seen when she herself came through it, 
having been lifted in his arms by the great Death Angel, 
and set down softly inside, so that she did not know it, or 
even the shadow of it. As she drew nearer, the light be- 
came less bright, though very sweet, like a lovely dawn, 
and she wondered to herself to think that she had been 
here but a moment ago, and yet so much had passed 
since then. And still she was not aware what was her 
errand, but wondered if she was to go back by these same 
gates, and perhaps return where she had been. She went 
up to them very closely, for she was curious to see the 
place through which she had come in her sleep, — as a 
traveller goes back to see the city gate, with its bridge 
and portcullis, through which he has passed by night. The 
gate was very great, of a wonderful, curious architecture, 
having strange, delicate arches and canopies above. 


32 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


Some parts of them seemed cut very clean and clear ; but 
the outlines were all softened with a sort of mist and shadow, 
so that it looked greater and higher than it was. The 
lower part was not one great doorway, as the Pilgrim had 
supposed, but had innumerable doors, all separate and 
very narrow, so that but one could pass at a time, though 
the arch inclosed all, and seemed filled with great folding 
gates, in which the smaller doors were set, so that if need 
arose a vast opening might be made for many to enter. 
Of the little doors many were shut as the Pilgrim ap- 
proached ; but from moment to moment one after another 
would be pushed softly open from without, and some one 
would come in. The little Pilgrim looked at it all with 
great interest, wondering which of the doors she herself 
had come by ; but while she stood absorbed by this, a door 
was suddenly pushed open close by her, and some one 
flung forward into the blessed country, falling upon the 
ground, and stretching out wild arms as though to clutch 
the very soil. This sight gave the Pilgrim a great sur- 
prise ; for it was the first time she had heard any sound of 
pain, or seen any sight of trouble, since she entered here. 
In that moment she knew what it was that the dear Lord 
had given her to do. She had no need to pause to think, 
for her heart told her ; and she did not hesitate, as she 
might have done in the other life, not knowing what to 
say. She went forward and gathered this poor creature 
into her arms, as if it had been a child, and drew her quite 
within the land of peace ; for she had fallen across the 
threshold, so as to hinder any one entering who might be 
coming after her. It was a woman, and she had flung 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


33 


herself upon her face, so that it was difficult for the little 
Pilgrim to see what manner of person it was ; for though 
she felt herself strong enough to take up this new-comer 
in her arms and carry her away, yet she forbore, seeing 
the will of the stranger was not so. For some time this 
woman lay moaning, with now and then a great sob shak- 
ing her as she lay. The little Pilgrim had taken her by 
both her arms, and drawn her head to rest upon her own 
lap, and was still holding the hands, which the poor 
creature had thrown out as if to clutch the ground. Thus 
she lay for a little while, as the little Pilgrim remembered 
she herself had lain, not wishing to move, wondering what 
had happened to her ; then she clutched the hands which 
grasped her, and said, muttering, — 

“ You are some one new. Have you come to save me ? 
Oh, save me ! Oh, save me ! Don’t let me die ! ” 

This was very strange to the little Pilgrim, and went to 
her heart. She soothed the stranger, holding her hands 
warm and light, and stooping over her. 

“ Dear,” she said, “ you must try and not be afraid.” 

“ You say so,” said the woman, “ because you are well 
and strong. You don’t know what it is to be seized in the 
middle of your life, and told that you’ve got to die. Oh, I 
have been a sinful creature ? I am not fit to die. Can’t 
you give me something that will cure me ? What is the 
good of doctors and nurses if they cannot save a poor soul 
that is not fit to die ? ” 

At this the little Pilgrim smiled upon her, always holding 
her fast, and said, — 

“ Why are you so afraid to die ? ” 


34 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


The woman raised her head to see who it was who put 
such a strange question to her. 

“ You are some one new,” she said. “ I have never 
seen you before. Is there any one that is not afraid to 
die ? Would you like to have to give an account all in a 
moment, without any time to prepare ? ” 

“ But you have had time to prepare,” said the Pilgrim. 

“ Oh, only a very, very little time. And I never thought 
it was true. I am not an old woman, and I am not fit to 
die ; and Pm poor. Oh, if I were rich, I would bribe you 
to give me something to keep me alive. Won’t you do it for 
pity ? — won’t you do it for pity ? When you are as bad as I 
am, oh, you will perhaps call for some one to help you, and 
find nobody, like me.” 

“ I will help you for love,” said the little Pilgrim “ some 
one who loves you has sent me.” 

The woman lifted herself up a little and shook her head. 
“ There is nobody that loves me.” Then she cast her eyes 
round her and began to tremble again (for the touch of the 
little Pilgrim had stilled her). “ Oh, where ami?” she 
said. “ They have taken me away ; they have brought me 
to a strange place ; and you are new. Oh, where have 
they taken me ? — where am I ? — where am I ? ” she cried. 
“ Have they brought me here to die ?” 

Then the little Pilgrim bent over her and soothed her. 
“ You must not be so much afraid of dying ; that is all 
over. You need not fear that any more,” she said softly ; 
“ for here where you now are we have all died.” 

The woman started up out of her arms, and then she 
gave a great shriek that made the air ring, and cried out, 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


35 


“ Dead ! am I dead ? ” with a shudder and convulsion, 
throwing herself again wildly with outstretched hands upon 
the ground. 

This was a great and terrible work for the little Pilgrim 
— the first she had ever had to do — and her heart failed 
her for a moment : but afterward she remembered our 
Brother who sent her, and knew what was best. She 
drew closer to the new-comer, and took her hand again. 

“ Try,” she said, in a soft voice, “ and think a little. 
Do you feel now so ill as you were ? Do not be frightened, 
but think a little. I will hold your hand. And look at me ; 
you are not afraid of me ? ” 

The poor creature shuddered again, and then she turned 
her face, and looked doubtfully, with great dark eyes di- 
lated, and the brow and cheek so curved and puckered 
round them that they seemed to glow out of deep caverns. 
Her face was full of anguish and fear. But as she looked 
at the little Pilgrim, her troubled gaze softened. Of her 
own accord she clasped her other hand upon the one that 
held hers, and then she said with a gasp, — 

“ I am not afraid of you ; that was not true that you 
said ! You are one of the sisters, and you want to frighten 
me and make me repent ! ” 

“ You do repent,” the Pilgrim said. 

“ Oh,” cried the poor woman, “ what has the like of 
you to do with me ? Now I look at you, I never saw any 
one like you before. Don’t you hate me ? — don’t you 
loathe me ? I do myself. It’s so ugly to do wrong. I 
think now I would almost rather die and be done with it. 
You will say that is because I am going to get better. I 


36 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


feel a great deal better now. Do you think I am going to 
get over it ? Oh, I am better ! I could get up out of bed 
and walk about. Yes, but I am not in bed, — where have 
you brought me ? Never mind, it is a fine air ; I shall 
soon get well here.” 

The Pilgrim was silent for a little, holding her hands. 
And then she said, — 

“Tell me how you feel now,” in her soft voice. 

The woman had sat up and was gazing round her. “ It 
is very strange,” she said ; “ it is all confused. I think 
upon my mother and the old prayers I used to say. For a 
long, long time I always said my prayers ; but now Fve 
got hardened, they say. Oh, I was once as fresh as any 
one. It all comes over me now. I feel as if I were young 
again — just come out of the country. I am sure that I 
could walk.” 

The little Pilgrim raised her up, holding her by her 
hands ; and she stood and gazed round about her, mak- 
ing one or two doubtful steps. She was very pale, and 
the light was dim ; her eyes peered into it with a scared 
yet eager look. She made another step, then stopped 
again. 

“ I am quite well,” she said. “ I could walk a mile. 
I could walk any distance. What was that you said ? Oh, 
I tell you I am better ! I am not going to die.” 

“ You will never, never die,” said the little Pilgrim ; 
“ are you not glad it is all over ? Oh, I was so glad ! And 
all the more you should be glad if you were so much 
afraid.” 

But this woman was not glad. She shrank away from 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


37 

her companion, then came close to her again, and gripped 
her with her hands. 

“ It is your — fun,” she said, “ or just to frighten me. 
Perhaps you think it will do me no harm as I am getting 
so well ; you want to frighten me to make me good. But 
I mean to be good without that — I do ! — I do ! When 
one is so near dying as I have been and yet gets better, — 
for I am going to get better ! Yes ! you know it as well 
as I.” 

The little Pilgrim made no reply, but stood by, looking 
at her charge, not feeling that anything was given her to 
say, — and she was so new to this work, that there was a 
little trembling in her, lest she should not do everything as 
she ought. And the woman looked round with those anx- 
ious eyes gazing all about. The light did not brighten as 
it had done when the Pilgrim herself first came to this 
place. For one thing, they had remained quite close to 
the gate, which no doubt threw a shadow. The woman 
looked at that, and then turned and looked into the dim 
morning, and did not know where she was, and her heart 
was confused and troubled. 

“ Where are we ? ” she said. “ I do not know where it 
is ; they must have brought me here in my sleep, — where 
are we ? How strange to bring a sick woman away out of 
her room in her sleep ! I suppose it was the new doctor,” 
she went on, looking very closely in the little Pilgrim’s 
face ; then paused, and drawing a long breath, said softly, 
“ It has done me good. It is better air — it is — a new kind 
of cure 1 ” 

But though she spoke like this, she did not convince her- 


38 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


self ; her eyes were wild with wondering and fear. She 
gripped the Pilgrim’s arm more and more closely, and 
trembled, leaning upon her. 

“ Why don’t you speak to me ? ” she said ; “ why don’t 
you tell me ? Oh, I don’t know how to live in this place 1 
What do you do ? — how do you speak ? I am not fit for 
it. And what are you ? I never saw you before, nor any 
one like you. What do you want with me ? Why are you 
so kind to me ? Why — why — ” 

And here she went off into a murmur of questions. 
Why ? why? always holding fast by the little Pilgrim, al- 
ways gazing round her, groping as it were in the dimness 
with her great eyes. 

“ I have come because our dear Lord who is our Brother 
sent me to meet you, and because I love you,” the little 
Pilgrim said. 

“ Love me ! ” the woman cried, throwing up her hands. 
“ But no one loves me ; I have not deserved it.” Here she 
grasped her close again with a sudden clutch, and cried 
out, “ If this is what you say, where is God ? ” 

“ Are you afraid of him ? ” the little Pilgrim said. 

Upon which the woman trembled so, that the Pilgrim 
trembled too with the quivering of her frame ; then loosed 
her hold, and fell her upon face, and cried, — 

“ Hide me ! hide me ! I have been a great sinner. 
Hide me, that he may not see me ; ” and with one hand she 
tried to draw the Pilgrim’s dress as a veil between her and 
something she feared. 

“ How should I hide you from him who is everywhere ? 

and why should I hide you from your Father ? ” the little 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


39 


Pilgrim said. This she said almost with indignation, won- 
dering that any one could put more trust in her, who was 
no better than a child, than in the Father of all. But then 
she said, “ Look into your heart, and you will see you are not 
so much afraid as you think. This is how you have been ac- 
customed to frighten yourself. But now look into your heart. 
You thought you were very ill at first, but not now : and 
you think you are afraid ; but look into your heart — ” 

There was a silence ; and then the woman raised her 
head with a wonderful look, in which there was amazement 
and doubt, as if she had heard some joyful thing, but dared 
not yet believe that it was true. Once more she hid her 
face in her hands, and once more raised it again. Her 
eyes softened ; a long sigh or gasp, like one taking breath 
after drowning, shook her breast. Then she said, “ I think 
— that is true. But if I am not afraid, it is because I am 
— bad. It is because I am hardened. Oh, should not I 
fear him who can send me away into the lake that burns — 
into the pit — ” And here she gave a great cry, but held the 
little Pilgrim all the while with her eyes, which seemed to 
plead and ask for better news. 

Then there came into the Pilgrim’s heart what to say, 
and she took the woman’s hand again and held it between 
her own. “ That is the change,” she said, “ that comes 
when we come here. We are not afraid any more of our 
Father. We are not all happy. Perhaps you will not be 
happy at first. But if he says to you, ‘ Go ! ’ — even to that 
place you speak of — you will know that it is well, and you 
will not be afraid. You are not afraid now, — oh, I can 
see it in your eyes. You are not happy, but you are not 


40 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


afraid. You know it is the Father. Do not say God, — 
that is far off — Father ! ” said the little Pilgrim, holding 
up the woman’s hand clasped in her own. And there came 
into her soul an ecstasy, and tears that were tears of bless- 
edness fell from her eyes, and all about her there seemed 
to shine a light. When she came to herself, the woman 
who was her charge had come quite close to her, and had 
added her other hand to that the Pilgrim held, and was 
weeping and saying, “ I am not afraid,” with now and then 
a gasp and sob, like a child who after a passion of tears 
has been consoled, yet goes on sobbing and cannot quite 
forget, and is afraid to own that all is well again. Then 
the Pilgrim kissed her, and bade her rest a little ; for even 
she herself felt shaken, and longed for a little quiet, and to 
feel the true sense of the peace that was in her heart. She 
sat down beside her upon the ground, and made her lean 
her head against her shoulder, and thus they remained very 
still for a little time, saying no more. It seemed to the 
little Pilgrim that her companion had fallen asleep, and 
perhaps it was so, after so much agitation. All this time 
there had been people passing, entering by the many doors. 
And most of them paused a little to see where they were, 
and looked round them, then went on ; and it seemed to 
the little Pilgrim that according to the doors by which they 
entered each took a different way. While she watched, 
another came in by the . same door as that at which the 
woman who was in her charge had come in. And he too 
stumbled and looked about him with an air of great wonder 
and doubt. When he saw her seated on the ground, he 
came up to her hesitating, as one in a strange place who 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


41 


does not want to betray that he is bewildered and has lost 
his way. He came with a little pretence of smiling, though 
his countenance was pale and scared, and said, drawing his 
breath quick. “ I ought to know where I am, but I have 
lost my head, I think. Will you tell me which is — the 
way ? ” 

“ What way ? ” cried the little Pilgrim ; for her strength 
was gone from her, and she had no word to say to him. 
He looked at her with that bewilderment on his face, and 
said, “ I find myself strange, strange. I ought to know where 
I am ; but it is scarcely daylight yet. It is perhaps foolish 
to come out so early in the morning.” This he said in his 
confusion, not knowing where he was, nor what he said. 

“ I think all the ways lead to our Father,” said the 
little Pilgrim ( though she had not known this till now). 
u And the dear Lord walks about them all. Here you 
never go astray.” 

Upon this the stranger looked at her, and asked in a 
faltering voice, “ Are you an angel ! ” still not knowing 
what he said. 

“ Oh, no, no ; I am only a Pilgrim she replied. 

“ May I sit by you a little ! ” said the man. He sat 
down, drawing long breaths, as though he had gone through 
great fatigue ; and looked about with wondering eyes. 
“ You will wonder, but I do not know where I am,” he said. 
“ I feel as I must be dreaming. This is not where I ex. 
pected to come. I looked for something very different ; do 
you think there can have been any — mistake ? ” 

“ Oh, never that,” she said ; “ there are no mistakes 

here.” 


42 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


Then he looked at her again, and said, — 

“ I perceive that you belong to this country, though 
you say you are a pilgrim. I should be grateful if you 
would tell me. Does one live — here ? And is this all ? 
Is there no — no — but I don’t know what word to use. All 
is so strange, different from what I expected.” 

“ Do you know that you have died ? ” 

“Yes — yes, I am quite acquainted with that,” he said, 
hurriedly, as if it had been an idea he disliked to dwell up- 
on. “ But then I expected — Is there no one to tell you 
where to go, or what you are to be ? or to take any notice 
of you?” 

The little Pilgrim was startled by this tone. She did 
not understand its meaning, and she had not any word to 
say to him. She looked at him with as much bewilderment 
as he had shown when he approached her, and replied, 
faltering, — 

“ There are a great many people here ; but I have never 
heard if there is any one to tell you — ” 

“ What does it matter how many people there are if 
you know none of them ? ” he said. 

“ We all know each other,” she answered him : but then 
paused and hesitated a little, because this was what had 
been said to her, and of herself she was not assured of it, 
neither did she know at all how to deal with this stranger, 
to whom she had not any commission. It seemed that he 
had no one to care for him, and the little Pilgrim had a 
sense of compassion, yet of trouble in her heart ; for what 
could she say ? And it was very strange to her to see one 
who was not content here. 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


43 


“ Ah, but there should be some one to point out the 
way, and tell us which is our circle, and where we ought 
to go,” he said. And then he too was silent for a while? 
looking about him as all were fain to do on their first ar- 
rival, finding everything so strange. There were people 
coming in at every moment, and some were met at the 
very threshold, and some went away alone with peaceful 
faces, and there were many groups about talking together 
in soft voices ; but no one interrupted the other, and 
though so many were there, each voice was as clear as if it 
had spoken alone, and there was no tumult of sound as 
when many people assemble together in the lower world. 

The little Pilgrim wondered to find herself with the wo- 
man resting upon her on one side, and the man seated 
silent on the other, neither having it appeared, any guide 
but only herself who knew so little. How was she to lead 
them in the paths which she did not know ? — and she was 
exhausted by the agitation of her struggle with the woman 
whom she felt to be her charge. But in this moment of 
silence she had time to remember the face of the Lord, 
when he gave her this commission, and her heart was 
strengthened. The man all this time sat and watched, look- 
ing eagerly all about him, examining the faces of those 
who went and came : and sometimes he made a little start 
if to go and speak to some one he knew ; but always drew 
back again and looked at the little Pilgrim, as if he had 
said, “ This is the one who will serve me best.” He spoke 
to her again after a while and said, “ I suppose you are one 
of the guides that show the way.” 

“ No,” said the little Pilgrim, anxiously. “ I know so 


4*4 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


little ! It is not long since I came here. I came in the 
early morning — ” 

“ Why, it is morning now. You could not come earlier 
than it is now. You mean yesterday.” 

“ I think,” said the Pilgrim, “ that yesterday is the other 
side ; there is no yesterday here.” 

He looked at her with the keen look he had, to under- 
stand her the better ; and then he said, — 

“No division of time ! I think that must be monotonous. 
It will be strange to have no night ; but I suppose one gets 
used to everything. I hope though there is something to 
do. I have always lived a very busy life. Perhaps this is 
just a little pause before we go — to be — to have — to get 
our — appointed place.” 

He had an uneasy look as he said this, and looked at 
her with an anxious curiosity, which the little Pilgrim did 
not understand. 

“ I do not know,” she said softly, shaking her head. “ I 
have so little experience. I have not been told of any ap- 
pointed place.” 

The man looked at her very strangely. 

“ I did not think,” he said, “ that I should have found 
such ignorance here. Is it not well known that we must 
all appear before the judgment-seat of God ? ” 

These words seemed to cause a trembling on the still 
air, and the woman on the other side raised herself sud- 
denly up, clasping her hands : and some of those who had 
just entered heard the words, and came and crowded 
about the little Pilgrim, some standing, some falling down 
upon their knees, all with their faces turned towards her# 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


45 


She who had always been so simple and small, so little 
used to teach ; she was frightened with the sight of all 
these strangers crowding, hanging upon her lips, looking 
to her for knowledge. She knew not to do or what to say. 
The tears came into her eyes. 

“ Oh,” she said, “ I do not know anything about a 
judgment-seat. I know that our Father is here, and that 
when we are in trouble we are taken to him to be com- 
forted, and that our dear Lord our Brother is among us 
every day, and every one may see him. Listen,” she said, 
standing up suddenly among them, feeling strong as an 
angel. “ I have seen him ! though I am nothing, so little 
as you see, and often silly, never clever as some of you 
are, I have seen him ! and so will all of you. There is no 
more that I know of,” she said softly, clasping her hands. 
“ When you see him it comes into your heart what you 
must do.” 

And then there was a murmur of voices about her, 
some saying that was best, and some wondering if that 
were all, and some crying if he would but come now — 
while the little Pilgrim stood among them with her face 
shining, and they all looked at her, asking her to tell them 
more, to show them how to find him. But this was far 
above what she could do, for she too was not much more 
than a stranger, and had little strength. She would not 
go back a step, nor desert those who were so anxious to 
know, though her heart fluttered almost as it had used to 
do before she died, what with her longing to tell them, 
and knowing that she had no more to say. 

But in that land it is never permitted that one who 


4 6 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


stands bravely and fails not shall be left without succor ; 
for it is no longer needful there to stand even to death, 
since all dying is over, and all souls are tested. When it 
was seen that the little Pilgrim was thus surrounded by so 
many that questioned her, there suddenly came about her 
many others from the brightness out of which she had 
come, who, on^ going to one hand, and one to another, 
safely led them into the ways in which their course lay : so 
that the Pilgrim was free to lead forth the woman who 
had been given her in charge, and whose path lay in a 
dim, but pleasant country, outside of that light and glad- 
ness in which the Pilgrim’s home was. 

“ But,” she said, “ you are not to fear or be cast down, 
because he goes likewise by these ways, and there is not a 
corner in all this land but he is to be seen passing by ; 
and he will come and speak to you, and lay his hand upon 
you ; and afterwards everything will be clear, and you 
will know what you are to do.” 

“ Stay with me till he comes, — oh, stay with me,” the 
woman cried, clinging to her arm. 

“ Unless another is sent,” the little Pilgrim said. And 
it was nothing to her that the air was less bright there, 
for her mind was full of light, so that, though her heart 
still fluttered a little with all that had passed, she had 
no longing to return, nor to shorten the way, but went 
by the lower road sweetly, with the stranger hanging 
upon her, who- was stronger and taller than she. Thus 
they went on, and the Pilgrim told her all she knew, 
and everything that came into her heart. And so full 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


47 


was she of the great things she had to say, that it was a 
surprise to her, and left her trembling, when suddenly 
the woman took away her clinging hand, and Hew forward 
with arms outspread and a cry of joy. The little Pilgrim 
stood still to see, and in the path before them was a child, 
coming towards them singing, with a look such as is 
never seen but upon the faces of children who have come 
here early, and who behold the face of the Father, and 
have never known fear nor sorrow. The woman flew and 
fell at the child’s feet, and he put his hand upon her, 
and raised her up, and called her “ mother.” Then he 
smiled upon the little Pilgrim, and led her away. 

“ Now she needs me no longer,” said the Pilgrim ; and 
it was a surprise to her, and for a moment she wondered 
in herself if it was known that this child should come 
so suddenly and her work be over ; and also how she 
was to return again to the sweet place among the flowers 
from which she had come. But when she turned to look 
if there was any way, she found one standing by such as 
she had not yet seen. This was a youth, with a face just 
touched with manhood, as at the moment when the boy 
ends, when all is still fresh and pure in the heart ; but 
he was taller and greater than a man. 

“ I am sent,” he said, “ little sister, to take you to the 
Father ; because you have been very faithful, and gone 
beyond your strength.” 

And he took the little Pilgrim by the hand, and she 
knew he was an angel ; and immediately the sweet air 
melted about them into light, and a hush came upon her 


48 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


of all thought and all sense, attending till she should re- 
ceive the blessing, and her new name, and see what is be- 
yond telling, and hear and understand. 


THE LITTLE PILGRIM GOES UP 
HIGHER. 























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A LITTLE PILGRIM: 


5 * 


II. 

THE LITTLE PILGRIM GOES UP N j 
HIGHER. 

When the little Pilgrim came out of the presence of the 
Father, she found herself in the street of a great city. 
But what she saw and heard when she was with Him it is 
not given to the tongue of mortal to say, for it is beyond 
words, and beyond even thought. As the mystery of love 
is not to be spoken but to be felt, even in the lower earth, 
so, but much less, is that great mystery of the love of the 
Father to be expressed in sound. The little Pilgrim 
was very happy when she went into that sacred place, but: 
there was a great awe upon her, and it might even be said 
that she was afraid ; but when she came out again she 
feared nothing, but looked with clear eyes upon all she 
saw, loving them, but no more overawed by them, having 
seen that which is above all. When she came forth again 
to her common life — for it is not permitted save for those 
who have attained the greatest heights to dwell there — she 
had no longer need of any guide, but came alone, knowing 
where to go, and walking where it pleased her, with rever- 
ence and a great delight in seeing and knowing all that 


52 A LITTLE PILGRIM, 

was around, but no fear. It was a great city, but it was 
not like the great cities which she had seen. She under- 
stood as she passed along how it was that those who had 
been dazzled but by a passing glance had described the 
walls and the pavement as gold. They were like what 
gold is, beautiful and clear, of a lovely color, but softer in 
tone than metal ever was, and as cool and fresh to 
walk upon and to touch as if they had been velvet grass. 
The buildings were all beautiful, of every style and form that 
it is possible to think of, yet in great harmony, as if every 
man had followed his own taste, yet all had been so com- 
bined and grouped by the master architect that each in- 
dividual feature enhanced the effect of the rest. Some of 
the houses were greater and some smaller, but all of them 
were rich in carvings and pictures and lovely decorations, 
and the effect was as if the richest materials had been em- 
ployed, marbles and beautiful sculptured stone, and wood 
of beautiful tints, though the little Pilgrim knew that these 
were not like the marble and stone she had once known, but 
heavenly representatives of them, far better than they. 
There were people at work upon them, building new houses 
and making additions, and a great many painters painting 
upon them the history of the people who lived there or of 
others who were worthy that commemoration. And the 
streets were full of pleasant sound, and of crowds going 
and coming, and the commotion of much business, and 
many things to do. And this movement, and the bright- 
ness of the air, and the wonderful things that were to be 
seen on every side, made the Pilgrim gay, so that she could 
have sung with pleasure as she went along. And all who 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


S3 

met her smiled, and every group exchanged greetings as 
they passed along, all knowing each other. Many of them, 
as might be seen, had come there, as she did, to see the 
wonders of the beautiful city ; and all who lived there were 
ready to tell them whatever they desired to know, and 
show them the finest houses and the greatest pictures. 
And this gave a feeling of holiday and pleasure which was 
delightful beyond description, for all the busy people 
about were full of sympathy with the strangers, bidding 
them welcome, inviting them into their houses, making the 
warmest fellowship. And friends were meeting continually 
on every side ; but the Pilgrim had no sense that she was 
forlorn in being alone, for all were friends ; and it pleased 
her to watch the others, and see how one turned this way 
and one another, every one finding something that de- 
lighted him above all other things. She herself took a 
great pleasure in watching a painter, who was standing 
upon a balcony a little way above her, painting upon a 
great fresco : and when he saw this he asked her to come 
up beside him and see his work. She asked him a great 
many question about it, and why it was that he was work- 
ing only at the draperies of the figures, and did not touch 
their faces, some of which were already finished and seem- 
ed to be looking at her, as living as she was, out of the 
wall, while some were merely outlined as yet. He told 
her that he was not a great painter to do this, or to design 
the great work, but that the master would come presently, 
who had the chief responsibility. “ For we have not all 
the same genius, he said, “ and if I were to paint this 
head it would not have the gift of life as that one has ; 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


54 

but to stand by and see him put it in, you cannot think 
what a happiness that is ; for one knows every touch and 
just what effect it will have, though one could not do it 
one’s self ; and it is a wonder and a delight perpetual that 
it should be done.” 

The little Pilgrim looked up at him and said, “ That is 
very beautiful to say. And do you never wish to be like 
him — to make the lovely, living faces as well as the other 
parts ? ” 

“ Is not this lovely too ? ” he said ; and showed her how 
he had just put in a billowy robe, buoyed out with the wind, 
and sweeping down from the shoulders of a stately figure in 
such free and graceful folds that she would have liked to 
take it in her hand and feel the silken texture ; and then 
he told her how absorbing it was to study the mysteries of 
color and the differences of light. “ There is enough in 
that to make one happy, ” he said. “ It is thought by some 
that we will all come to the higher point with work and 
thought : but that is not my feeling ; and whether it is so or 
not what does it matter, for our Father makes no differ- 
ence : and all of us are necessary to everything that is 
done : and it is almost more delight to see the master do 
it than to do it with one’s own hand. For one thing, your 
own work may rejoice you in your heart, but always with 
a little trembling because it is never so perfect as you 
would have it — whereas in your master’s work you have full 
content, because his idea goes beyond yours, and as he 
makes every touch you can feel ‘That is right — that is 
complete — that is just as it ought to be. ’ Do you under- 
stand what I mean ? ” he said, turning to her with a smile* 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


55 

“ I understand it perfectly, ” she cried, clasping her 
hands together with the delight of accord. “ Don’t you 
think that is one of the things that are so happy here ? you 
understand at half a word. ” 

“ Not everybody, ” he said, and smiled upon her like a 
brother ; “ for we are not all alike even here. ” 

“ Were you a painter ? ” she said, “ in — in the other — ” 
“ In the old times. I was one of those that strove for 
the mastery, and sometimes grudged — We remember these 
things at times,” he said gravely, “ to make us more aware 
of the blessedness of being content. ” 

“ It is long since then ? ” she said with some wistfulness ; 
upon which he smiled again. 

“ So long, ” he said, “ that we have worn out most of our 
links to the world below. We have all come away, and 
those who were after us for generations. But you are a 
new-comer. ” 

“ And are they all with you ? are you all — together ? do 
you live — as in the old time ? ” 

Upon this the painter smiled, but not so brightly as be. 
fore. 

“ Not as in the old time, ” he said, “ nor are they all 
here. Some are still upon the way, and of some we have 
no certainty, only news from time to time. The angels are 
very good to us. They never miss an occasion to bring us 
news ; for they go everywhere, you know. ” 

“ Yes, ” said the little Pilgrim, though indeed she had 
not known it till now ; but it seemed to her as if it had 
come to her mind by nature and she had never needed to 
be told. 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


56 

“ They are so tender-hearted, ” the painter said ; “ and 
more than that, they are very curious about men and 
women. They have known it all from the beginning, and 
it is a wonder to them. There is a friend of mine, an 
angel, who is more wise in men’s hearts than any one I 
know ; and yet he will say to me sometimes, ‘ I do not 
understand you, — you are wonderful. 9 They like to find 
out all we are thinking. It is an endless pleasure to them, 
just as it is to some of us to watch the people in the othei 
worlds. ” 

“ Do you mean — where we have come from ? 99 said the 
Little Pilgrim. 

“ Not always there. We in this city have been long 
separated from that country, for all that we love are out 
of it. ” 

“ But not here ? 99 the little Pilgrim cried again, with a 
little sorrow — a pang that she knew was going to be put 
away — in her heart. 

“ But coming ! coming ! ” said the painter, cheerfully ; 
“and some were here before us, and some have arrived 
since. They are everywhere . 99 

“ But some in trouble — some in trouble ! 99 she cried, with 
the tears in her eyes. 

“ We suppose so , 99 he said, gravely ; “ for some are in 
that place which once was called among us the place of 
despair . " 

“You mean — ” and though the little Pilgrim had been 
made free of fear, at that word which she would not speak, 
she trembled, and the light grew dim in her eyes. 

“ Well ! ” said her new friend, “ and what then ? The 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


57 

father sees through and through it as he does here ; they 
cannot escape him : so that there is Love near them always. 
I have a son, ” he said, then sighed a little, but smiled 
again, “ who is there. ” 

The little Pilgrim at this clasped her hands with a piteous 
cry. 

“ Nay, nay, ” he said, “ little sister ; my friend 1 was tell- 
ing you of, the angel, brought me news of him just now. 
Indeed there was news of him through all the city. Did 
you not hear all the bells ringing ? But perhaps that was 
before you came. The angels who know me best came 
one after another to tell me, and our Lord himself came to 
wish me joy. My son had found the way. ” 

The little Pilgrim did not understand this, and almost 
thought that the painter must be mistaken or dreaming. 
She looked at him very anxiously and said, — 

“I thought that those unhappy — never came out any 
more.” 

The painter smiled at her in return, and said, — 

“ Had you children in the old time ? ” 

She paused a little before she replied. 

“ I had children in love,” she said, “but none that were 
born mine.” 

“ It is the same,” he said, “ it is the same ; and if one 
of them had sinned against you, injured you, done wrong 
in any way, would you have cast him off, or what would 
you have done ? ” 

“ Oh ! ” said the litt-le Pilgrim again, with a vivid light 
of memory coming into her face, which showed she had no 
need to think of this as a thing that might have happened, 


5 8 A LITTLE PILGRIM, 

but knew. “ I brought him home. I nursed him well 
again. I prayed for him night and day. Did you say 
cast him off ? when he had most need of me ? then I never 
could have loved him,” she cried. 

The painter nodded his head, and his hand with his pen- 
cil in it, for he had turned from his picture to look at her. 

“ Then you think you love better than our Father ? ” 
he said ; and turned to his work, and painted a new fold 
in the robe, which looked as if a soft air had suddenly 
blown into it, and not the touch of a skilful hand. 

This made the Pilgrim tremble, as though in her igno- 
rance she had done something wrong. After that there 
came a great joy into her heart. “ Oh, how happy you 
have made me ! ” she cried. “ I am glad with all my 
heart for you and your son — ” Then she paused a little 
and added, “ But you said he was still there.” 

u It is true ; for the land of darkness is very confusing, 
they tell me, for want of the true light, and our dear friends 
the angels are not permitted to help : but if one follows them, 
that shows the way. You may be in that land and yet on 
your way hither. It was very hard to understand at first,” 
said the painter ; “ there are some sketches I could show 
you. No one has ever made a picture of it, though many 
have tried ; but I could show you some sketches — if you 
wish to see.” 

To this the little Pilgrim’s look were so plain an answer 
that the painter laid down his pallet and his brush, and left 
his work, to show them to her as he had promised. They 
went down from the balcony and along the street until they 
came to one of the great palaces, where many were com- 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


59 


in g and going. Here they walked through some vast halls, 
where students were working at easels, doing every kind 
of beautiful work : some painting pictures, some preparing 
drawings, planning houses and palaces. The Pilgrim 
would have liked to pause at every moment to see one 
lovely thing or another ; but the painter walked on steadily 
till he came to a room which was full of sketches, some of 
them like pictures in little, with many figures, — some of 
them only a representation of a flower, or the wing of a 
bird. “ These are all the master’s,” he said ; “ sometimes 
the sight of them will be enough to put something great 
into the mind of another. In this corner are the sketches 
I told you of.” There were two of them hanging togethei 
upon the wall, and at first it seemed to the little Pilgrim as 
if they represented the flames and fire of which she had 
read, and this made her shudder for the moment. But 
then she saw that it was a red light like a stormy sunset, 
and masses of clouds in the sky, and a low sun very fiery and 
dazzling, which no doubt to a hasty glance must have looked, 
with its dark shadows and high lurid lights, like the fires 
of the bottomless pit. But when you looked down you saw 
the reality what it was. The country that lay beneath was 
full of tropical foliage, but with many stretches of sand 
and dry plains, and in the foreground was a town, that 
looked very prosperous and crowded, though the figures 
were very minute, the subject being so great ; but no one 
to see it would have taken it for anything but a busy and 
wealthy place, in a thunderous atmosphere, with a storm 
coming on. In the next there was a section of a street 
with a great banqueting hall open to the view, and many 


6o 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


people sitting about the table. You could see that there 
was a great deal of laughter and conversation going on, 
some very noisy groups, but others that sat more quietly 
in corners and conversed, and some who sang, and every 
kind of entertainment. The little Pilgrim was very much 
astonished to see this, and turned to the painter, who an- 
swered her directly, though she had not spoken. “We 
used to think differently once. There are some who are 
there and do not know it. They think only it is the old 
life over again, but always worse, and they are led on in the 
ways of evil ; but they do not feel the punishment until 
they begin to find out where they are and to struggle, and 
wish foi other things. ,, 

The little Pilgrim felt her heart beat very wildly while 
she look^v. his, and she thought upon the rich man in 
the parable, who, though he was himself in torment, prayed 
that his brother might be saved, and she said to herself, 
“ Our dear Lord would never leave him there who could 
think of his brother when he was himself in such a strait.” 
And when she looked at the painter he smiled upon her, 
and nodded his head. Then he led her to the other corner 
of the room where there were other pictures. One of them 
was of a party seated round a table and an angel looking 
on. The angel had the aspect of a traveller, as if he were 
passing quickly by and had but paused a moment to look, 
and one of the men glancing up suddenly saw him. The 
picture was dim, but the startled look upon this man’s face, 
and the sorrow on the angel’s, appeared out of the misty 
background with such truth that the tears came into the 
little Pilgrim’s eyes, and she said in her heart, “ Oh that I 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


61 


could go to him and help him ! ” The other sketches were 
dimmer and dimmer. You seemed to see out of the dark- 
ness, gleaming lights, and companies of revellers, out of 
which here and there was one trying to escape. And then 
the wide plains in the night, and the white vision of the 
angel in tne distance, and here and there by different paths 
a fugitive striving to follow. “ Oh, sir,” said the little 
Pilgrim, “ how did you learn to do it ? You have never 
been there.” 

“ It was the master, not I ; and I cannot tell you if he 
has ever been there. When the Father has given you that 
gift, you can go to many places, without leaving the one 
where you are. And then he has heard what the angels 
say.” 

“ And will they all get safe at the last ? and even that 
great spirit, he that fell from heaven — ” 

The painter shook his head and said, “ It is not per- 
mitted to you and me to know such great things. Perhaps 
the wise will tell you if you ask them ; but as for me I ask 
the Father in my heart and listen to what he says.” 

“ That is best 1 ” the little Pilgrim said ; and she asked 
the Father in her heart : and there came all over her such 
a glow of warmth and happiness that her soul was satisfied. 
She looked in the painter’s face aryl laughed for joy. And 
he put out his hands as if welcoming some one, and his 
countenance shone ; and he said, — 

“ My son had a great gift. He was a master born ? 
though it was not given to me. He shall paint it all for us 
so the heart shall rejoice ; and you will come again and 
see,” 


62 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


After that it happened to the little Pilgrim to enter into 
another great palace where there were many people read 
ing, and some sitting at their desks and writing, and some 
consulting together, with many great volumes stretched out 
open upon the tables. One of these who was seated alone 
looked up as she paused wondering at him, and smiled as 
every one did, and greeted her with such a friendly tone 
that the Pilgrim, who always had a great desire to know, 
came nearer to him and looked at the book, then begged 
his pardon, and said she did not know that books were 
needed here. And then he told her that he was one of the 
historians of the city where all the records of the world 
were kept, and that it was his business to work upon the 
great history, and to show what was the meaning of the 
Father in everything that had happened, and how each 
event came in its right place. 

“ And do you get it out of books ? ” she asked ; for she 
was not learned, nor wise, and knew but little, though she 
always loved to know. 

“ The books are the records,” he said ; “ and there are 
many here that were never known to us in the old days ; 
for the angels love to look into these things, and they can 
tell us much, for they saw it ; and in the great books they 
have kept there is much put down that was never in the 
books we wrote, for then we did not know. We found out 
about the kings and the state, and tried to understand what 
great purposes they were serving ; but even these we did 
not know, for those purposes were too great for us, not 
knowing the end from the beginning, and the hearts of men 
were too great for us. We comprehended the evil some- 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


63 


times, but never fathomed the good. And how could we 
know the lesser things which were working out God’s way ? 
for some of these even the angels did not know ; and it has 
happened to me that our Lord himself has come in some- 
times to tell me of one that none of us had discovered.” 

“ Oh,” said the little Pilgrim, with tears in her eyes, 
“ I should like to have been that one ! — that was not known 
even to the angels, but only to Himself ! ” 

The historian smiled. “ It was my brother,” he said. 
The Pilgrim looked at. him with great wonder. “ Your 
brother, and you did not know him ! ” 

“ And then he turned over the pages and showed her 
where the story was. 

“You know,” he said, “that we who live here are not 
of your time, but have lived and lived here till the old life 
is far away and like a dream. There were great tumults 
and fightings in our time, and it was settled by the prince 
of the place that our town was to be abandoned, and all 
the people left to the mercy of an enemy who had no 
mercy. But every day as he rode out he saw at one door 
a child, a little fair boy, who sat on the steps, and sang 
his little song like a bird. This child was never afraid 
of anything, — when the horses pranced past him, and the 
troopers pushed him aside, he looked up into their faces 
and smiled. And when he had anything, a piece of 
bread, or an apple, or a plaything, he shared it with his 
playmates ; and his little face, and his pretty voice, and 
all his pleasant ways, made that corner bright. He was 
like a flower growing there : everybody smiled that saw 
him.” 


64 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


“1 have seen such a child,” the little Pilgrim said. 

“ But we made no account of him,” said the historian. 
" The lord of the place came past him every day, and 
always saw him singing in the sun by his father’s door. 
And it was a wonder then, and it has been a wonder ever 
since, why, having resolved upon it, that prince did not 
abandon the town, which would have changed all his 
fortune after. Much had been made clear to me since I 
began to study, but not this : till the Lord himself came 
to me and told me. The prince looked at the child till 
he loved him, and he reflected how many children there 
were like this that would be murdered, or starved to death, 
and he could not give up the little singing boy to the 
sword. So he remained ; and the town was saved, and 
he became a great king. It was so secret that even the 
angels did not know it. But without that child the history 
would not have been complete.” 

“ And is he here ? ” the little Pilgrim said. 

“ Ah,” said the historian, “ that is more strange still ; 
for that which saved him was also to his harm. He is not 
here. He is Elsewhere.” 

The little Pilgrim’s face grew sad ; but then she remem- 
bered what she had been told. 

“ But you know,” she said, “ that he is coming ? ” 

“ I know that our Father will never forsake him, and 
that everything that is being accomplished in him is well.” 

“ Is it well to suffer ? Is it well to live in that dark 
stormy country ? Oh, that they were all here, and happy 
like you ! ” 

He shook his head a little and said, — 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


6S 


“ It was a long time before I got here ; and as for 
suffering that matters little. You get experience by it. 
You are more accomplished and fit for greater work in the 
end. It is not for nothing that we are permitted to wan- 
der ; and sometimes one goes to the edge of despair — ” 

She looked at him with such wondering eyes that he an- 
swered her without a word. 

“ Yes,” he said, “ I have been there.” 

And then it seemed to her that there was something in 
his eyes which she had not remarked before. Not only 
the great content that was everywhere, but a deeper light, 
and the air of a judge who knew both good and evil, and 
could see both sides, and understood all, both to love and 
to hate. 

“ Little sister,” he said, “ you have never wandered far ; 
it is not needful for such as you. Love teaches you, and 
you need no more ; but when we have to be trained for an 
office like this, to make the way of the Lord clear through 
all the generations, reason is that we should see everything, 
and learn all that man is and can be. These things are 
too deep for us ; we stumble on, and know not till after. 
But now to me it is all clear.” 

She looked at him again and again while he spoke, and 
it seemed to her that she saw in him such great knowledge 
and tenderness as made her glad ; and how he could un- 
derstand the follies that men had done, and fathom what 
real meaning was in them, and disentangle all the threads. 
He smiled as she gazed at him, and answered as if she had 
spoken. 

“ What was evil perishes, and what was good remains ; 


66 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


almost everywhere there is a little good. We could not 
understand all if we had not seen all and shared all.” 

“And the punishment too,” she said, wondering more 
and more. 

He smiled so joyfully that it was like laughter. 

“ Pain is a great angel.” he said. “ The reason we 
hated him in the old days was because he tended to death 
and decay ; but when it is towards life he leads, we fear 
him no more. The welcome thing of all in the land of 
darkness is when you see him first and know who he is ; 
for by this you are aware that you have found the way.” 

The little Pilgrim did nothing but question with her 
anxious eyes, for this was such a wonder to her, and she 
could not understand. But he only sat musing with a 
smile over the things he remembered. And at last he 
said, — 

“ If this is so interesting to you, you shall read it all 
in another place, in the room where we have laid up our 
own experiences, in order to serve for the history afterwards. 
But we are still busy upon the work of the earth. There 
is always something new to be discovered. And it is 
essential for the whole world that the chronicle should be 
full. I am in great joy because it was but just now that 
our Lord told me about that child. Everything was 
imperfect without him, but now it is clear.” 

“ You mean your brother ? And you are happy though 
you are not sure if he is happy ? ” the little Pilgrim said. 

“ It is not to be happy that we live,” said he ; and then, 
“ We are all happy so soon as we have found the way.” 

She would have asked him more, but that he was called 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


67 


to a consultation with some others of his kind, and had to 
leave her, waving his hand to her with a tender kindness 
which went to her heart. She looked after him with great 
respect, scarcely knowing why ; but it seemed to her that 
a man who had been in the land of darkness, and made 
his way out of it, must be more wonderful than any other. 
She looked round for a little upon the great library, full of 
all the books, that had ever been written, and where people 
were doing their work, examining and reading and making 
extracts, every one with looks of so much interest, that she 
almost envied them, — though it was a generous delight in 
seeing people so happy in their occupation, and a desire 
to associate herself somehow in it, rather than any grudg- 
ing of their satisfaction, that was in her mind. She went 
about all the courts of this palace alone, and everywhere 
saw the same work going on, and everywhere met the same 
kind looks. Even when the greatest of all looked up from 
his work and saw her, he would give her a friendly greeting 
and a smile ; and nobody was too wise to lend an ear to 
the little visitor, or to answer her questions. And this 
was how it was that she began to talk to another, who was 
seated at a great table with many more, and who drew 
her to him by something that was in his looks, through she 
could not have told what it was. It was not that he was 
kinder than the rest, for they were all kind. She stood 
by him a little, and saw how he worked and would take 
something from one book and something from another, 
putting them ready for use. And it did not seem any 
trouble to do this work, but only pleasure, and the very 
pen in his hand was like a winged thing, as if it loved to 


68 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


write. When he saw her watching him, he looked up and 
showed her the beautiful book out of which he was copying, 
which was all illuminated with lovely pictures. 

“ This is one of the volumes of the great history,” he 
said. “ There are some things in it which are needed for 
another, and it is a pleasure to work at it. If you will 
come here you will be able to see the page while I write.” 

Then the little Pilgrim asked him some questions about 
the pictures, and he answered her, describing and explain- 
ing them ; for they were in the middle of the history, and 
she did not understand what it was. When she said, “ I 
ought not to trouble you, for you are busy,” he laughed so 
kindly that she laughed too for pleasure. And he said, — 

“ There is no trouble here. When we are not allowed 
to work, as sometimes happens, that makes us not quite so 
happy, but it is very seldom that it happens so.” 

“ Is it for punishment ? ” she said. 

And then he laughed out with a sound which made all 
the others look up smiling ; and if they had not all looked 
so tenderly at her, as at a child who has made such a mis- 
take as it is pretty for the child to make, she would have 
feared she had said something wrong ; but she only laughed 
at herself too, and blushed a little, knowing that she was not 
wise : and to put her at her ease again, he turned the leaf 
and showed her other pictures, and the story which went 
with them, from which he was copying something. And 
he said, — 

This is for another book, to show how the grace of the 
Father was beautiful in some homes and families. It is 
not the great history, but connected with it ; and there are 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 69 

many who love that better than the story which is more 
great.” 

Then the Pilgrim looked in his face and said, — 

“ What I want most is, to know about your homes here.” 

“ It is all home here,” he said, and smiled ; and then, 
as he met her wistful looks, he went on to tell her that he 
and his brothers were not always there. “ We have all 
our occupations,” he said, “ and sometimes I am sent to 
inquire into facts that have happened, of which the record 
is not clear ; for we must omit nothing ; and sometimes we 
are told to rest and take in new strength ; and some- 
times — ” 

“ But oh, forgive me,” cried the little Pilgrim, “ you had 
some who were more dear to you than all the world in the 
old time ? ” 

And the others all looked up again at the question, and 
looked at her with tender eyes, and said to the man whom 
she questioned, — “ Speak ! ” 

He made a little pause before he spoke, and he looked 
at one here and there, and called to them, — 

“ Patience, brother,” and “ Courage, brother.” And 
then he said, “ Those whom we loved best are nearly all 
with us ; but some have not yet come.” 

“ Oh,” said the little Pilgrim, “ but how then do you bear 
it, to be parted so long — so long ? ” 

Then one of those to whom the first speaker had called 
out “ Patience ” rose and came to her smiling ; and he 
said, — 

“ I think every hour that perhaps she will come, and the 
joy will be so great, that thinking of that makes the waiting 


7o 


A LITTLE T I LG RIM, 


short : and nothing here is long, for it never ends ; and it 
will be so wonderful to hear her tell how the Father has 
guided her, that it will be a delight to us all ; and she will be 
able to explain many things, not only for us, but for all 
and we love each other so that this separation is as nothing 
in comparison with what is to come.” 

It was beautiful to hear this, but it was not what the 
little Pilgrim expected, for she thought they would have 
told her of the homes to which they all returned when their 
work was over, and a life which was like the life of the old 
time ; but of this they said nothing, only looking at her 
with smiling eyes, as at the curious questions of a child. 
And there were many other things she would have asked, 
but refrained when she looked at them, feeling as if she 
did not yet understand : when one of them broke forth 
suddenly in a louder voice, and said, — 

“The little sister knows only the little language and the 
beginning of days. She has not learned the mysteries, and 
what love is, and what life is.” 

And another cried, “It is sweet to hear it again ; ” and 
they all gathered around her with tender looks, and began 
to talk to each other, and tell her, as men will tell of the 
games of their childhood, of things that happened, which 
were half-forgotten, in the old time. 

After this, the little Pilgrim went out again into the beau* 
tiful city, feeling in her heart that everything was a mystery, 
and that the days would never be long enough to learn all 
that had yet to be learned, but knowing now that this too 
was the little language, and pleased with the sweet thought 
of so much that was to come. For one had whispered to 


A LITTLE TIL GRIM. 


7 1 


her as she went out that the new tongue, and every ex- 
planation, as she was ready for it, would come to her 
through one of those whom she loved best, which is the 
usage of that country. And when the stranger has no one 
there that is very dear, then it is an angel who teaches the 
greater language, and that is what happens often to the 
children who are brought up in that heavenly place. When 
she reached the street again, she was so pleased with this 
thought that it went out of her mind to ask her way to the 
great library, where she was to read the story of the histo- 
rian’s journey through the land of darkness ; indeed she 
forgot that land altogether, and thought only of what was 
around her in the great city, which is beyond everything 
that eye has seen, or that ear has heard, or that it has 
entered into the imagination to conceive. And now it 
seemed to her that she was much more familiar with the 
looks of the people, and could distinguish between those 
who belonged to the city and those who were visitors like 
herself ! and also could tell which they were who had 
entered into the mysteries of the kingdom, and which were 
like herself, only acquainted with the beginning of days. 
And it came to her mind, she could not tell how, that it 
was best not to ask questions, but to wait until the beloved 
one should come, who would teach her the first words. 
For in the meantime she did not feel at all impatient or 
disturbed by her want of knowledge, but laughed a little at 
herself to suppose that she could find out everything, and 
went on looking round her, and saying a word to every one 
she met, and enjoying the holiday looks of all the strangers, 
and the sense she had in her heart of holiday too. She 


72 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


was walking on in this pleasant way, when she heard a 
sound that was like silver trumpets, and saw the crowd 
turn towards an open space in which all the beautiful 
buildings were shaded with fine trees, and flowers were 
springing at the very edge of the pavements. The strangers 
all hastened along to hear what it was, and she with them, 
and some also of the people of the place. And as the little 
Pilgrim found herself walking by a woman who was of 
these last, she asked her what it was. 

And the woman told her it was a poet who had come to 
say to them what had been revealed to him, and that the 
two with the silver trumpets were angels of the musicians 7 
order, whose office it was to proclaim everything that was 
new, that the people should know. And many of those 
who were at work in the palaces came out and joined the 
crowd and the painter who had showed the little Pilgrim 
his picture, and many whose faces she began to be ac- 
quainted with. The poet stood up upon a beautiful ped- 
estal all sculptured in stone, and with wreaths of living 
flowers hung upon it — and when the crowd had gathered 
in front of him, he began his poem. He told them that it 
■was not about this land, or anything that happened in it, 
which they knew as he did, but that it was a story of the 
old time, when men were walking in darkness, and when 
no one knew the true meaning even of what he himself 
did, but had to go on as if blindly, stumbling and groping 
with their hands. And “ Oh, brethren, 7 ’ he said, “ though 
all is more beautiful and joyful here where we know, yet 
to remember the days when we knew not, and the ways 
when all was uncertain, and the end could not be distin- 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


73 


guished from the beginning, is sweet and dear ; and that 
which was done in the dim twilight should be celebrated 
in the day ; and our Father himself loves to hear of those 
who, having not seen, loved, and who learned without any 
teacher, and followed the light, though they did not under- 
stand.” 

And then he told them the story of one who had lived 
in the old time ; and in that air, which seemed to be made 
of sunshine, and amid all those stately palaces, he de- 
scribed to them the little earth which they had left behind 
— the skies that were covered with clouds, and the ways 
that were so rough and stony, and the cruelty of the op- 
pressor, and the cries of those that were oppressed. And 
he showed the sickness and the troubles, and the sorrow 
and danger ; and how Death stalked about, and tore heart 
from heart ; and how sometimes the strongest would fail, 
and the truest fall under the power of a lie, and the ten- 
derest forget to be kind ; and how evil things lurked in 
every corner to beguile the dwellers there ; and how the 
days were short and the nights dark, and life so little that 
by the time a man had learned something it was his hour 
to die. “ What can a soul do that is born there ? ” he 
cried ; u for war is there and fighting, and perplexity and 
darkness ; and no man knows if that which he does will be 
for good or evil, or can tell which is the best way, or know 
the end from the beginning ; and those he loves the most 
are a mystery to him, and their thoughts beyond his reach. 
And clouds are between him and the Father, and he is 
deceived with false gods and false teachers, who make 
him to love a lie.” The people who were listening held 


74 


A LITTLE T I LG RIM 


their breath, and a shadow like a cloud fell on them, and 
they remembered and knew that it was true. But the next 
moment their hearts rebelled, and one and another would 
have spoken, and the little Pilgrim herself had almost 
cried out and made her plea for the dear earth which she 
loved ; when he suddenly drew forth his voice again like 
a great song. “ Oh, dear mother earth,” he cried ; “ oh, 
little world and great, forgive thy son ! for lovely thou art 
and dear, and the sun of God shines upon thee, and the 
sweet dews fall ; and there were we born, and loved and 
died, and are come hence to bless the Father and the Son. 
For in no other world, though they are so vast, is it given 
to any to know the Lord in the darkness, and follow him 
groping, and make way through sin and death, and over- 
come the evil, and conquer in his name.” At which there 
was a great sound of weeping and of triumph, and the 
little Pilgrim could not contain herself, but cried out too 
in joy as if for a deliverance. And then the poet told his 
tale. And as he told them of the man who was poor and 
sorrowful and alone, and how he loved and was not loved 
again, and trusted and was betrayed, and was tempted and 
drawn into the darkness, so that it seemed as if he must 
perish ; but when hope was almost gone, turned again from 
the edge of despair, and confronted all his enemies, and 
fought and conquered, — the people followed every word with 
great outcries of love and pity and wonder. For each one 
as he listened remembered his own career and that of his 
brethren in the old life, and admired to think that all the evil 
was past, and wondered that out of such tribulation and 
through so many dangers all were safe and blessed here. And 


75 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 

* 

there were others that were not of them, who listened, 
some seated at the windows of the palaces and some stand- 
ing in the great square, — people who were not like the 
others, whose bearing was more majestic, and who looked 
upon the crowd all smiling and weeping, with wonder and 
interest, but had no knowledge of the cause, and listened 
as it were to a tale that is told. The poet and his audience 
were as one, and at every period of the story there was a 
deep breathing and pause, and every one looked at his 
neighbor, and some grasped each other’s hands as they 
remembered all that was in the past ; but the strangers 
listened and gazed and observed all, as those who listen 
and are instructed in something beyond their knowledge. 
The little Pilgrim stood all this time not knowing where 
she was, so intent was she upon the tale ; and as she lis- 
tened it seemed to her that all her own life was rolling out 
before her, and she remembered the things that had been, 
and perceived how all had been shaped and guided, and 
trembled a little for the brother who was in danger, yet 
knew that all would be well. 

The woman who had been at her side listened too with 
all her heart, saying to herself, as she stood in the crowd, 
“ He has left nothing out ! The little days they were so 
short, and the skies would change all in a moment and one’s 
heart with them. How he brings it all back 1” And she 
put up her hand to dry away a tear from her eyes, though 
her face all the time was shining with the recollection. The 
little Pilgrim was glad to be by the side of a woman after 
talking with so many men, and she put out her hand and 
touched the cloak that this lady wore, and which was white 


76 A LITTLE PILGRIM 

and of the most beautiful texture, with gold threads woven 
in it, or something that looked like gold. 

“ Do you like,*’ she said, “ to think of the old time ? ” 
The woman turned and looked down upon her, for she 
was tall and stately, and immediately took the hand of the 
little Pilgrim into hers, and held it without answering, till 
the poet had ended and come down from the place where 
he had been standing. He came straight through the crowd 
to where this lady stood, and said something to her. “ You 
did well to tell me,” looking at her with love in his eyes, 
— not the tender sweetness of all those kind looks around, 
but the love that is for one. The little Pilgrim looked at 
them with her heart beating, and was very glad for them, 
and happy in herself ; For she had not seen this love before 
since she came into the city, and it had troubled her to 
think that perhaps it did not exist any more. “ I am glad/’ 
the lady said, and gave him her other hand ; “ but here is 
a little sister who asks me something, and I must answer 
her. I think she has but newly come.” 

“ She has a face full of the morning,” the poet said. It 
did the little Pilgrim good to feel the touch of the warm, 
soft hand ; and she was not afraid, but lifted her eyes and 
spoke to the lady and to the poet. “ It is beautiful what 
you said to us. Sometimes in the old time we used to look 
up to the beautiful skies and wonder what there was above 
the clouds ; but we never thought that up here in this 
great city you would be thinking of what we were doing, 
and making beautiful poems all about us. We thought 
that you would sing wonderful psalms, and talk of things 
high, high above us,” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


77 


“ The little sister does not know what the meaning of 
the earth is,” the poet said. “ It is but a little speck, but it 
is the centre of all. Let her walk with us, and we will go 
home, and you will tell her, Ama, for I love to hear you 
talk.” 

“ Will you come with us ? ” the lady said. 

And the little Pilgrim's heart leaped up in her, to think 
she was now going to see a home in this wonderful city , 
and then they went along, hand in hand, and though they 
were three together, and many were coming and going, 
there was no difficulty, for every one made way for them. 
And there was a little murmur of pleasure as the poet passed 
and those who had heard his poem made obeisance to him, 
and thanked him, and thanked the Father for him that he 
was able to show them so many beautiful things. And they 
walked along the street which was shining with color, 
and saw as they passed how the master painter had come 
to his work, and was standing upon the balcony where the 
little Pilgrim had been, and bringing out of the wall, under 
his hand, faces which were full of life, and which seemed 
to spring forth as if they had been hidden there. “ Let us 
wait a little and see him working,” the poet said ; and all 
round about the people stopped on their way, and there 
was a soft cry of pleasure and praise all through the beauti- 
ful street. And the painter with whom the little Pilgrim 
had talked before came, and stood behind her as if he had 
been an old friend, and called out to her at every new 
touch to mark how this and that was done. She did not un- 
der stand as he did, but she saw how beautiful it was, and she 
was glad to have seen the great painter, as she had been glad 


A LITTLE T I LG RIM. 


7S 

to hear the great poet. It seemed to the little Pilgrim as 
if everything happened well for her, and that no one had 
ever been so blessed before. And to make it all more 
sweet, this new friend, this great and sweet lady, always 
held her hand, and pressed it softly when something more 
lovely appeared ; and even the pictured faces on the wall 
seemed to beam upon her, as they came out one by one 
like the stars in the sky. Then the three went on again, 
and passed by many more beautiful palaces, and great 
streets leading away into the light, till you could see no 
further; and they met with bands of singers who sang so 
sweetly that the heart seemed to leap out of the Pilgrim’s 
breast to meet with them, for above all things this was 
what she had loved most. And out of one of the palaces 
there came such glorious music that everything she had 
seen and heard before seemed as nothing in comparison. 
And amid all these delights they went on, and on, but with- 
out wearying, till they came out of the streets into lovely 
walks and alleys, and made their way to the banks of a great 
river which seemed to sing, too, a soft melody of its own. 

And here there were some fair houses surrounded by 
gardens and flowers that grew everywhere, and the doors 
were all open, and within everything was lovely and still, 
and ready for rest if you were weary. The little Pilgrim 
was not w^ary ; but the lady placed her upon a couch in 
the porch, where the pillars and the roof were all formed 
of interlacing plants and flowers ; and there they sat 
with her, and talked, and explained to her many things. 
They told her that the earth, though so small, was the place 
wl all the world to which the thoughts of those above 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


79 


were turned. “ And not only of us who have lived there ? 
but of all our brothers in the other worlds ; for we are 
the race which the Father has chosen to be the example. 
In every age there is one that is the scene of the struggle 
and the victory, and it is for this reason that the chroni- 
cles are made, and that we are all placed here to gather 
the mean mg of what has been done among men. And I 
am one of those,” the lady said, “ that go back to the 
dear earth and gather up the tale of what our little brethren 
are doing. I have not to succor like some others, but 
only to see and bring the news ; and he makes them into 
great poems, as you have heard ; and sometimes the 
master painter will take one and make of it a picture ; 
and there is nothing that is so delightful to us as when 
we can bring back the histories of beautiful things.” 

“ But, oh,” said the little Pilgrim, “ what can there be 
on earth so beautiful as the meanest thing that is here ? ” 

Then they both smiled upon her and said, “It is more 
beautiful than the most beautiful thing here to see how, 
under the low skies and in the short days, a soul will turn 
to our Father. And sometimes,” said Ama, “ when I am 
watching, one will wander and stray, and be led into the 
dark till my heart is sick ; then come back and make me 
glad. Sometimes I cry out within myself to the Father, 
and say, ‘ O my Father, it is enough ! 9 and it will seem to me 
that it is not possible to stand by and see his destruction. 
And then while you are gazing, while you are crying, he 
will recover and return, and go on again. And to the 
angels it is more wonderful than to us, for they have never 
lived there. And all the other worlds are eager to hear 


8o 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


what we can tell them. For no one knows except the 
Father how the battle will turn, or when it will all be ac- 
complished : and there are some who tremble for our lit 
tie brethren. For to look down and see how little light 
there is, and how no one knows what may happen to him 
next, makes them afraid who never were there.” 

The little Pilgrim listened with an intent face, clasping 
her hands, and said, — 

“ But it never could be that our Father should be over- 
come by evil. Is not that known in all the worlds ? ” 

Then the lady turned and kissed her; and the poet 
broke forth in singing, and said, “ Faith is more heavenly 
than heaven; it is more beautiful than the angels. It is 
the only voice that can answer to our Father. We praise 
him, we glorify him, we love his name ; but there is but 
one response to him through all the worlds, and that is 
the cry of the little brothers, who see nothing and know 
nothing, but believe that he will never fail.” 

At this the little Pilgrim wept, for her heart was 
touched ; but she said, — 

“ We are not so ignorant; for we have our Lord who is 
our Brother, and he teaches us all that we require to 
know.” 

Upon this the poet rose and lifted up his hands and 
sang again a great song ; it was in the other language which 
the little Pilgrim still did not understand, but she could 
make out that it sounded like a great proclamation that He 
was wise as he was good, and called upon all to see that 
the Lord had chosen the only way: and the sound of the 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


8l 


poet’s voice was like a great trumpet sounding bold and 
sweet, as if to tell this to those who were far away. 

“ For you must know,” said the Lady Ama, who all the 
time held the Pilgrim’s hand, “ that it is permitted to all 
to judge according to the wisdom that has been given 
them. And there are some who think that our dear Lord 
might have found another way, and that wait, sometimes 
with trembling, lest he should fail ; but not among us who 
have lived on earth, for we know. And it is our work to 
show to all the worlds that his way never fails, and how 
wonderful it is, and beautiful above all that heart has 
conceived. And thus we justify the ways of God, who is 
our Father. But in the other worlds there are many who 
will continue to fear until the history of the earth is all 
ended and the chronicles are made complete.” 

“ And will that be long ? ” the little Pilgrim cried, feel- 
ing in her heart that she would like to go to all the worlds 
and tell them of o-ur Lord, and of his love, and how the 
thought of him makes you strong ; and it troubled her a 
little to hear her friends speak of the low skies, and the 
short days, and the dimness of that dear country which 
she had left behind, in which there were so many 
still whom she loved. 

Upon this Ama shook her head, and said that of that 
day no one knew, not even our Lord, but only the Father ; 
and then she smiled and answered the little Pilgrim’s 
thought. “ When we go back,” she said, “ it is not as 
when we lived there ; for now we see all the dangers of it 
and the mysteries which we did not see before. It was by 
the Father’s dear love that we did not see what was 


82 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


around us and about us while we lived there, for then our 
hearts would have fainted ; and that makes us wonder now 
that any one endures to the end.” 

“ You are a great deal wiser than I am, ,, said the little 
Pilgrim “ but, though our hearts had fainted, how could 
we have been overcome ? for He was on our side.” 

At this neither of them made any reply at first, but 
looked at her ; and at length the poet said that she had 
brought many thoughts back to his mind, and how he had 
himself been almost worsted when one like her came to 
him and gave strength to his soul. “ For that He was on 
our side was the only thing she knew,” he said, “ and all 
that could be learned or discovered was not worthy of 
naming beside it. And this I must tell when next I speak 
to the people, and how our little sister brought it to my 
mind.” 

And then they paused from this discourse, and the little 
Pilgrim looked round upon the beautiful houses and the 
fair gardens, and she said, — 

“You live here ? and do you come home at night ? — but 
I do not mean at night, I mean when your work is done. 
And are they poets like you that dwell all about in these 
pleasant places, and the — ” 

She would have said the children, but stopped, not 
knowing if perhaps it might be unkind to speak of the 
children when she saw none there. 

Upon this the lady smiled once more, and said, — 

“ The door stands open always, so that no one is shut 
out, and the children come and go when they will. They 


A LITTLE PILGK 1 M. 83 

are children no longer, and they have their appointed 
work like him and lne.” 

“ And you are always among those you love ? ” the 
Pilgrim said; upon which they smiled again and said 
“We all love each other;” and the lady held her hand in 
both of hers, and caressed it, and softly laughed and said, 
“ You know only the little language. When you have 
been taught the other you will learn many beautiful things.” 

She rested for some time after this, and talked much 
with her new friends; and then there came into the heart 
of the little Pilgrim a longing to go to the place which was 
appointed for her, and which was her home, and to do the 
work which had been given her to do. And when the 
lady saw this she rose and said that she would accom- 
pany her a little upon her way. But the poet bid her 
farewell and remained under the porch, with the green 
branches shading him, and the flowers twining round the 
pillars, and the open door of this beautiful house behind 
him. When she looked back upon him he waved his hand 
to her as if bidding her God-speed, and the lady by her 
side looked back too and waved her hand, and the little 
Pilgrim felt tears of happiness come to her eyes ; for she 
had been wondering with a little disappointment to see 
that the people in the city, except those who were strangers, 
were chiefly alone, and not like those in the old world where 
the husband and wife go together. It consoled her to see 
again two who were one. The lady pressed her hand in 
answer to her thought, and bade her pause a moment and 
look back into the city as they passed the end of the great 
street out of which they came. And then the Pilgrim was 


8 4 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


more and more consoled, for she saw many who had before 
been alone now walking together hand in hand. 

“ It is not as it was,” Ama said. “ For all of us have 
work to do which is needed for the worlds, and it is no 
longer needful that one should sit at home while the other 
goes forth ; for our work is not for our life as of old, or 
for ourselves, but for the Father who has given us so great 
a trust. And, little sister, you must know that though we 
are not so great as the angels, nor as many that come to 
visit us from the other worlds, yet we are nearer to him. 
For we are in his secret, and it is ours to make it clear.” 

The little Pilgrim’s heart was very full to hear this ; 
but she said, — 

“ I was never clever, nor knew much. It is better for 
me to go away to my little border-land, and help the 
strangers who do not know the way.” 

“ Whatever is your work is the best,” the lady said ; 
“ but though you are so little you are in the Father’s secret 
too : for it is nature to you to know what the others cannot 
be sure of, that we must have the victory at the last : so 
that we have this between us, the Father and we. And 
though all are his children, we are of the kindred of God, 
because of our Lord who is our Brother.” And then the 
Lady Ama kissed her, and bade her when she returned to 
the great city, either for rest or for love, or because the 
Father sent for her, that she should come to the house by 
the river. “ For we are friends forever,” she said, and so 
threw her white veil over her head, and was gone upon her 
mission, whither the little Pilgrim did not know. 

And now she found herself at a distance from the great 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


85 


city, which shone in the light with its beautiful towers, 
and roofs, and all its monuments, softly fringed with trees, 
and set in a heavenly firmament. And the Pilgrim thought 
of those words that described this lovely place as a bride 
adorned for her husband, and did not wonder at him who 
had said that her streets were of gold and her gates of 
pearl, because gold and pearls and precious jewels were 
as nothing to the glory and the beauty of her. The 
little Pilgrim was glad to have seen these wonderful things, 
and her mind was like a cup running over with almost 
more than it could contain. It seemed to her that 
there never could be a time when she should want for 
wonder and interest and delight, so long as she had this 
to think of. Yet she was not sorry to turn her back upon 
the beautiful city, but went on her way singing in unutter- 
able content, and thinking over what the lady had said, 
that we were in God’s secret, more than all the great 
worlds above and even the angels, because of knowing 
how it is that in darkness and doubt, and without any open 
vision, a man may still keep the right way. The path lay 
along the bank of the river which flowed beside her and 
made the air full of music, and a soft air blew across the 
running stream and breathed in her face and refreshed 
her, and the birds sang in all the trees. And as she passed 
through the villages the people came out to meet her, and 
asked of her if she had come from the city, and what she 
had seen there, And everywhere she found friends, and 
kind voices that gave her greeting. But some would ask 
her why she still spoke the little language, though it was 
sweet to their ears ; and others when they heard it has- 


86 


A LITTLE PILGRIM \ 


tened to call from the houses and the fields some among 
them who knew the other tongue but a little, and who 
came and crowded round the little Pilgrim, and asked 
her many questions both about the things she had been 
seeing and about the old time. And she perceived that 
the village folk were a simple folk, not learned and wise 
like those she had left ; and that though they lived within 
sight of the great city, and showed every stranger the 
beautiful view of it, and the glory of its towers, yet few 
among them had travelled there ; for they were so content 
with their fields, and their river, and the shade of their 
trees, and the birds singing, and their simple life, that they 
wanted no change ; though it pleased them to receive the 
little Pilgrim, and they brought her into their villages re- 
joicing, and called every one to see her. And they told 
her that they had all been poor and labored hard in the 
old time, and had never rested ; so that now it was the 
Father’s good pleasure that they should enjoy great peace 
and consolation among the fresh-breathing fields and on 
the riverside, so that there were many who even now had 
little occupation except to think of the Father’s goodness, 
and to rest. And they told her how the Lord himself 
would come among them, and sit down under a tree, and 
tell them one of his parables, and make them all more 
happy than words could say ; and how sometimes he would 
send one out of the beautiful city, with a poem or tale to 
say to them, and bands of lovely music, more lovely than 
anything beside, except the sound of the Lord’s own voice, 
“And what is more wonderful, the angels themselves come 
often and listen to us,” they said, “ when we begin to talk 


A LITTLE PILGRIM . 


*7 


and remind each other of the old time, and how we suf- 
fered heat and cold, and were bowed down with labor, and 
bending down over the soil, and how sometimes the har- 
vest would fail us, and sometimes we had not bread, and 
sometimes would hush the children to sleep because there 
was nothing to give them ; and how we grew old and 
weary, and still worked on and on.” “ We are those who 
were old,” a number of them called out to her, with a 
murmuring sound of laughter, one looking over another's 
shoulder. And one woman said, “The angels say to us, 
4 Did you never think the Father had forsaken you and 
the Lord forgotten you ? ’ ” And all the rest answered as 
in a chorus, 44 There were moments that we thought 
this ; but all the time we knew that it could not be.” 
44 And the angels wonder at us,” said another. All this 
they said, crowding one before another, every one anx- 
ious to say something, and sometimes speaking together, 
but always in accord. And then there was a sound of 
laughter and pleasure, both at the strange thought that the 
Lord could have forgotten them, and at the wonder of the 
angels over their simple tales. And immediately they be- 
gan to remind each other, and say, 44 Do you remember ? ” 
and they told the little Pilgrim a hundred tales of the hard- 
ships and troubles they had known, all smiling and radi- 
ant with pleasure ; and at every new account the others 
would applaud and rejoice, feeling the happiness all the 
more for the evils that were past. And some of them led 
her into their gardens to show her their little flowers, and to 
tell her how they had begun to study and learn how colors 
were changed and form perfected, and the secrets of the 


88 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


growth and of the germ, of which they had been ignorant. 
And others arranged thems^ves in choirs, and sang to her 
delightful songs of tfie fidJ.s, and accompanied her out 
upon her way, singing and answering to each other. The 
difference between the simple folk and the greatness of 
the others made the little Pilgrim wonder and admire ; 
and she loved them in her simplicity, and .turned back 
many a time to wave her hand to them, and to listen to 
the lovely simple singing as it went further and further 
away. It had an evening tone of rest and quietness, and 
of protection and peace. “ He leadeth me by the green 
pastures and beside the quiet waters,” she said to herself ; 
and her heart swelled with pleasure to think that it was 
those who had been so old, and so weary and poor, who 
had this rest to console them for all their sorrows. 

And as she went along, not only did she pass through 
many other villages, but met many on the way who were 
travelling towards the great city, and would greet her 
sweetly as they passed, and sometimes stop to say a pleas- 
ant word, so that the little Pilgrim was never lonely wher- 
ever she went. But most of them began to speak to her in 
the other language, which was as beautiful and sweet as 
music, but which she could not understand ; and they were 
surprised to find her ignorant of it, not knowing that she 
was but a new-comer into these lands. And there were 
many things that could not be told but in that language, 
for the earthly tongue had no words to express them. The 
little Pilgrim was a little sad not to understand what was 
said to her, but cheered herself with the thought that it 
should be taught her by one whom she loved best. The 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


89 


way by the riverside was very cheerful and bright, with 
many people coming and going, and many villages, some 
of them with a bridge across the stream, some withdrawn 
among the fields, but all of them bright and full of life, 
and with sounds of music, and voices, and footsteps : and 
the little Pilgrim felt no weariness, and moved along as 
lightly as a child, taking great pleasure in everything she 
saw, and answering all the friendly greetings with all her 
heart, yet glad to think she was approaching ever nearer 
to the country where it was ordained that she should dwell 
for a time and succor the strangers, and receive those who 
were newly arrived. And she consoled herself with the 
thought that there was no need of any language but that 
which she knew. As this went through her mind, making 
her glad, she suddenly became aware of one who was walk- 
ing by her side, a lady who was covered with a veil white 
and shining like that which Am-a had worn in the beautiful 
city. It hung about this stranger's head so that it was not 
easy to see her face, but the sound of her voice was very 
sweet in the Pilgrim’s ear, yet startled her like the sound 
of something which she knew well, but could not remember. 
And as there were few who were going that way she was 
glad and said, “ Let us walk together, if that pleases you.’’ 
And the stranger said, “ It is for that I have come,” which 
was a reply which made the little Pilgrim wonder more 
and more, though she was very glad and joyful to have 
this companion upon her way. And then the lady be- 
gan to ask her many questions, not about the city, or the 
great things she had seen, but about herself, and what the 
dear Lord had given her to do. 


9 o 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


“ I am little and weak, and I cannot do much,” the little 
Pilgrim said. “ It is nothing but pleasure. It is to wel- 
come those that are coming, and tell them. Sometimes 
they are astonished and do not know. I was so myself. I 
came in my sleep, and understood nothing. But now that 
I know, it is sweet to tell them that they need not fear.” 

“ I was glad,” the lady said, “ that you came in your 
sleep ; for sometimes the way is dark and hard, and you 
are little and tender. When your brother comes you will 
be the first to see him, and show him the way.” 

“ My brother! is he coming? ” the little Pilgrim cried. 
And then she said with a wistful look, “ but we are all 
brethren, and you mean only one of those who are the 
children of our Father. You must forgive me that I do 
not know the higher speech, but only what is natural, for I 
have not yet been long here.” 

“ He whom I mean is called — ” and here the lady said a 
name which was the true name of a brother born whom 
the Pilgrim loved above all others. She gave a cry, and 
then she said, trembling, “ I know your voice, but I cannot 
see your face. And what you say makes me think of many 
things. No one else has covered her face when she has 
spoken to me. I know you, and yet I cannot tell who you 
are.” 

The woman stood for a little without saying a word, 
and then very softly, in a voice which only the heart heard, 
she called the little Pilgrim by her name. 

“ Mother,” cried the Pilgrim, with such a cry of joy 
that it echoed all about in the sweet air, and flung herself 
upon the veiled lady, and drew the veil from her face, and 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


91 

saw that it was she. And with this sight there came a rev- 
elation which flooded her soul with happiness. For the 
face which had been old and feeble was old no longer, but 
fair in the maturity of day ; and the figure that had been 
bent and weary was full of a tender majesty, and the arms 
that clasped her about were warm and soft with love and 
life. And all that had changed their relations in the other 
days and made the mother in her weakness seem as a 
child, and transferred all protection and strength to the 
daughter, was gone for ever : and the little Pilgrim beheld 
in a rapture one who was her sister and equal, yet ever 
above her, — more near to her than any, though all were so 
near, — one of whom she herself was a part, yet another, 
and who knew all her thoughts and the way of them before 
they arose in her. And to see her face as in the days of 
her prime, and her eyes so clear and wise, and to feel once 
more that which is different from the love of all, that 
which is still most sweet where all is sweet, the love of one, 
was like a crown to her in her happiness. The little Pil- 
grim could not think for joy, nor say a word, but held this 
dear mother’s hands and looked in her face, and her heart 
soared away to the Father in thanks and joy. They sat 
down by the roadside under the shade of the trees, — while 
the river ran softly by, and everything was hushed out of 
sympathy and kindness, — and questioned each other of all 
that had been and was to be. And the little Pilgrim told 
all the little news of home, and of the brothers and sister 
and the children that had been born, and of those whose 
faces were turned towards this better country ; and the 
mother smiled and listened and would have heard all over 


92 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


and over, although many things she already knew. “ But 
why should I tell you, for did not you watch over us and 
see all we did, and were not you near us always ? ” the 
little Pilgrim said. 

“ How could that be ? ” said the mother ; “ for we are 
not like our Lord, to be everywhere. We come and go 
where we are sent. But sometimes we knew, and some- 
times saw, and always loved. And whenever our hearts 
were sick for news it was but to go to him, and he told us 
everything. And now, my little one, you are as we are, 
and have seen the Lord. And this has been given us, to 
teach our child once more, and show you the heavenly 
language, that you may understand all, both the little and 
the great.” 

Then the Pilgrim lifted her head from her mother’s 
bosom, and looked in her face with eyes full of longing. 
“ You said 4 we,’ ” she said. 

The mother did nothing but smile ; then lifted her 
eyes and looked along the beautiful path of the river to 
where some one was coming to join them. And the little 
Pilgrim cried out again, in wonder and joy ; and presently 
found herself seated between them, her father and her 
mother, the two who had loved her most in the other days. 
They looked more beautiful than the angels and all the 
great persons whom she had seen ; for still they were hers 
and she was theirs more than all the angels and all the bless- 
ed could be. And thus she learned that though the new 
may take the place of the old, and many things may blos- 
som out of it like flowers, yet that the old is never done 
away. And then they sat together, telling of everything 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


93 


that had befallen, and all the little tender things that were 
of no import, and all the great changes and noble ways, and 
the wonders of heaven above and the earth beneath, for 
all were open to them, both great and small ; and when 
they had satisfied their souls with these, her father and 
mother began to teach her the other language, smiling 
often at her faltering tongue, and telling her the same thing 
over and over till she learnt it ; and her father called her 
his little foolish one, as he had done in the old days ; and 
at last, when they had kissed her and blessed her, and told 
her how to come home to them when she was weary, they 
gave her, as the Father had permitted them, with joy and 
blessing, her new name. 

The little Pilgrim was tired with happiness and all the 
wonder and pleasure ; and as she sat there in the silence, 
leaning upon those who were so dear to her, the soft 
air grew sweeter and sweeter about her, and the light faded 
softly into a dimness of tender indulgence and privilege for 
her, because she was still little and weak. And whether 
that heavenly suspense of all her faculties was sleep or not 
she knew not, but it was such as in all her life she had 
never known. When she came back to herself, it was by 
the sound of many voices calling her, and many people 
hastening past and beckoning to her to join them. 

“ Come, come, ” they said, “ little sister : there has been 
great trouble in the other life, and many have arrived 
suddenly and are afraid. Come, come, and help them, — 
come and help them ! ” 

And she sprang up from her soft seat, and found that she 
was no longer by the riverside, or within sight of the great 


94 


A LITTLE PILGRIM 


city, or in the arms of those she loved, but stood on one of 
the flowery paths of her own border-land, and saw her 
fellows hastening towards the gates where there seemed a 
great crowd. And she was no longer weary, but full of 
life and strength ; and it seemed to her that she could take 
them up in her arms, those trembling strangers, and carry 
them straight to the Father, so strong was she, and light, and 
full of force. And above all the gladness she had felt, 
and all her pleasure in what she had seen, and more happy 
even than the meeting with those she loved most, was her 
happiness now, as she went along as light as the breeze to 
receive the strangers. She was so eager that she began to 
sing a song of welcome as she hastened on. “ Oh welcome, 
welcome ! ” she cried ; and as she sang she knew it was one 
of the heavenly melodies which she had heard in the great 
city ; and she hastened on, her feet flying over the flowery 
ways, thinking how the great worlds were all watching, and 
the angels looking on, and the whole universe waiting till 
it should be proved to them that the dear Lord, the Brother 
of us all, had chosen the perfect way, and that over all 
evil and the sorrow he was the Conqueror alone. 

And the little Pilgrim’s voice, though it was so small, 
echoed away through the great firmament to where the 
other worlds were watching to see what should come, and 
cheered the anxious faces of some great lords and prince? 
far more great than she, who were of a nobler race than 
man ; for it was said among the stars that when such a 
little sound should reach so far, it was a token that the 
Lord had chosen aright, and that his method must be the 
best. And it breathed over the earth like some one sav- 


A LITTLE T I LG RIM 


9S 


ing Courage ! to those whose hearts were failing; and it 
dropped down, down, into the great confusions and traffic 
of the Land of Darkness, and'startlcd many, like the cry of 
a child calling and calling, and never ceasing, “ Come ! 
and come ! and come ! ” 




































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85. 

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87. 

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100 . 
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Heart and Science, by Wilkie Col- 
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The Golden Calf, by Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

The Dean’s Daughter, by Mrs. 

Gore 20 

Mrs. Geoffrey, by The Duchess.. 20 

Pickwick Papers, Part 1 20 

Pickwick Papers, Part II 20 

Airy Fa ry Lilian, by The Duchess. 20 
McLeod of Dare, by Wm. Black. 20 
Tempest Tossed, by Tilton, P’t 1.20 
Tempest Tossed, by Tilton, P’t II. 20 
Letters from High Latitudes, by 

Lord Dufferin 20 

Gideon Fleyce, by Henry W. Lucy. 20 
India and Ceylon, by E. Haeckle. .20 
The Gypsy Queen, by Hugh De 

Normand 20 

The Admiral’s Ward, by Mrs. 

Alexander 20 

Nimport, by E. L. Bynner, P’t I.. 15 
Nimport, byE. L. Bynner, P’t II. . 15 
Harry Holbrooke, by Sir H. Ran- 
dall Roberts 20 

Tritons, by E. Lasseter Bynner, 

Parti 15 

Tritons, by E. Lasseter Bynner, 

Part II 15 

Let Nothing You Dismay, by Wal- 
ter Besant 10 

Lady Audley’s Secret, by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

Woman's Place To-Day, by Mrs. 

Lillie Devereux Blake 20 

Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part I... 15 
Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part II.. 15 
Housekeeping and Home-Making, 

by Marion Harland 15 

No New Thing, by W. E. Norris.. 20 
The SpoopendykePapers, by Stan- 
ley Huntley 20 

False Hopes, by Gold win Smith. .15 
Labor and Capital, by Edward 

Kellogg 20 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part 1 15 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part II 15 

'More Words About the Bible, by 

Rev. Jas. S. Bush 20 

Monsieur Lecoq, byGaboriau,P’t 1.20 
MonsieurLecoq,byGaboriau,P’t 11.20 
An Outline of Irish History, by 

Justin H. McCarthy. 10 

The Lerouge Case, by Gaboriau..20 
Paul Clifford, by Lord Ly tton ... 20 
A New Lease of Life, by About. .20 

Bourbon Lillies 20 

Other Peoples’ Money, by Emile 

Gaboriau 20 

The Lady of Lyons, by Lord Ly tton. 10 
Ameline de Bourg 15 


123. A Sea Queen, by W. Clark Russell. 20 

124. The Ladies Lindores, by Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

125. Haunted Hearts, by J. P. Simpson. 10 

126. Loys, Lord Beresford, by The 

Duchess 20 

127. Under Two Flags, by Ouida, P’t 1.20 
Under Two Flags, by Ouida, P’t 11.20 

128. Money, by Lord Lytton 10 

129. In Peril of His Life, by Gaboriau. 20 

130. India, by Max Muller 20 

131. Jets and Flashes 20 

132. Moonshine and Marguerites, by 

The Duchess. 10 

133. Mr. Scarborough’s Family, by 

Anthony Trollope, Part 1 15 

Mr. Scarborough’s Family, by 
Anthony Trollope, Part II 15 

134. Arden, by A. Mary F. Roberts... 15 

135. The Tower of Percemont, by 

George Sand 20 

136. Yolande, by Wm. Black 20 

137. Cruel London, by Joseph Hatton. 20 

138. The Gilded Clique, by Gaboriau... 20 

139. Pike County Folks, by E. H. Mott.. 20 

140. Cricket on the Hearth, byDickens.10 

141. Henry Esmond, by Thackeray.. ..20 

142. Strange Adventures of a Phaeton, . 

by Wm. Black 20 

143. Denis Duval, by W. M.Thackeray .10 

144. Old Curiosity Shop, by Charles < 

Dickens, Part 1 15 

Old Curiosity Shop, by Charles 
Dickens, Part II 15 

145. Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part I ..15 

Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part II 15 

146. White W ng<*. by Wm. Black 20 

147. The Sketch Book, by Irving 20 

148. Catherine, by W. M. Thackeray 10 

149. Janet 8 Repentance, by Eliot. .. .10 

150. Barnaby Rudge, Dickens Part 1.15 
Barnaby Rudge, Dickens P't 11.15 

151. Felix Holt, by George Eliot.. .20 

152. Richelieu by Lord Lytton 10 

153. Sunrise, by Wm. Black Part I.. .15 
Sunrise, by Wm. Black Part II. . 15 

154. Tour of the World in 80 Days 20 

155. Mystery of Orcival, Gaboriau ,..20 

156. Lovel, The Widower, by W. M. 

Thackeray 10 

157. The Romantic Adventures of a 

Milkmaid, by Thos. Hardy 10 

158. David Copperfield. Parti 20 

David Copperfield, Part II 20 

159. Charlotte Temple, 10 

160. Rienzi, by Lord Lytton, Part 1 . . 10 
Rienzi, by Lord Lytton, Part II .10 

161. Promise of Marriage, Gaboriau. .25 

162. Faith and Unfaith, The Duchess 15 

163. The Happy Man, Samuel Lover. 10 

164. Barry Lyndon, by Thackeray . .20 

165. Eyre’s Acquittal, Helen Mathers 10 

166. 20.000 Leagues under the Sea, by 

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